Subtract, Add, Unite and Conquer
by Miss Bright
Summary: Mello, Matt and Near hold the key to Allie's forgotten past. Meanwhile, Light finds himself faced with a new, deadly alliance. Half AU, half canon. Mello x OC; also featuring Matt, the SPK and Mogi.
1. Drama Queens

**Author's Note: Hi everyone, I'd just like to introduce myself. I'm a first-time author here, so I'd really appreciate any constructive criticisms or even better, encouragement/advice and comments from any readers. Enjoy! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note****.**

**Note: Line breaks mean switching characters' points of view, usually between Allie and Mello.**

* * *

**Chapter 1: Drama Queens**

* * *

_Bang._

I slammed my locker shut, angry that my best friend was still not getting it.

"Of course he's sorry, he got you those flowers, didn't he?"

"Roses aren't enough to – " I started, but Sara cut me off impatiently.

"Let's talk about this later, Allie. Come on, or we'll be late for rehearsal."

Twenty minutes later, ten pairs of eyes were trained on me in disbelief. I was slowly reddening under their shocked gazes. "I'm sorry, I'm just not feeling well today," I whispered.

Mr. Jones shook his head. "Allie," he said sternly, "I entrusted you with the lead role believing you'd be able to handle the extra stress. Go home and get some rest. If you're not ready by tomorrow, I'll have our lovely guest, Ms. Amane, stand in for you instead."

Misa Amane beamed, not bothering to hide her glee.

I nodded and grabbed my bag, dashing out of the auditorium before he could say another word, before anyone could see my tears spill over.

"Allie!" Sara shouted after me. I pretended not to hear.

* * *

"Matt," I hissed. "Matt!" I snapped my fingers in my best friend's face.

"W-what?" he stuttered, flinching. A loud beeping emitted from his game. "Oh shit, thanks a lot." He threw his DS aside. It landed in a pile of dirty laundry. I rolled my eyes.

"I'm out of chocolate," I snarled. "There were _three_ bars this morning. Where did they go?"

"Oh. That. I, uh..." Matt muttered, tousling his red hair in embarrassment.

"What?" I pressed, my stomach rumbling. Matt turned pink beneath his freckles.

"I'm sorry, Mello. I got hungry while we were unpacking," Matt explained, hanging his head. "I'll go buy you some more."

I sighed and waved it off. "No, I'll just go myself. I want to try a new brand anyway."

Ten minutes later, I was roaring down the roads on my motorcycle. The traffic was unusually light today; I reached the 7-11 in record time. I set my bike against the store window before sweeping through the door.

"Achmed," I greeted the scowling cashier. I could tell that there was nothing the scrawny, bushy-haired man wanted more dearly than to kick me out, or at least call the cops. But I knew he wouldn't, because he knew who I was. He knew who I knew...

...or used to know.

* * *

**Well, that's the shortest chapter in the story. Just to start it off with a quick, short, sweet bang. **

**Thanks for reading!**


	2. Happy Anniversary - NOT!

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or any of its characters/likeness. **

**Note: ****Italics are for flashbacks. **If you can only see large gaps where the line breaks should be, that's a switch in POV, usually between Allie and Mello. 

* * *

**Chapter 2: Happy Anniversary... NOT!**

* * *

I'd always thought that Rick was different from all the other guys out there, but last night...

Last night proved me wrong. He wasn't the person I thought he was.

"_You're beautiful, Allie," Rick said earnestly, looking intently into my eyes. He stroked my hand._

"_So are you, Rick," I giggled. I was well aware that the champagne was getting to my head, but I didn't care. I was tipsy, and it felt good. _

"_Are you alright? You've had two glasses," my boyfriend mused, a slight smile flitting across his lips._

"_Well, our one-year anniversary calls for it," I replied happily. "How'd you get it anyway?"_

"_I asked my brother to buy it."_

"_Just three more years, and we'll able to have all the bubbly we want." I giggled again. "Mmm, my first legal drink will be a margarita. No wait, maybe a daiquiri."_

_Rick was looking at me strangely. I was never one to giggle or ramble. _

"_Sorry, I think I've had enough for tonight," I apologized hastily._

"_It's quite alright," Rick said pleasantly. He stood up and cleared the table, and emptied the bottle of the champagne down his sink. What a waste, I thought to myself. _

_Rick returned with a plate of brownies. "I baked them myself," he informed me with a hint of pride._

"_You shouldn't have!" I exclaimed. I loved brownies, even more than champagne. _

"_Well, our one-year anniversary calls for it," Rick replied, winking at me. I smiled back, and selected an especially packed brownie. _

"_You know, it's not the only thing our anniversary calls for," Rick continued. He took a deep breath. _"_Champagne wasn't the only thing Robbie bought for me."_

_I raised an eyebrow at him and stopped chewing. "What else is there?"_

_Rick blew out the candles. The softly-lit room was thrown into darkness. I gasped in surprise. _

"_Follow me," came his disembodied voice. _

"_Um," I said. _

_Rick flicked on a flashlight, and took my hand. He carefully led me up the stairs. _

"_Where are we going?" I whispered. Although no one else was in the house, it seemed appropriate to whisper in the darkness. _

"_You'll see."_

_The next thing I knew, I was laying on his bed. Rick managed to light another candle on his dresser. He was fumbling around for something in his drawers._

"_What are you doing? Come here," I cooed, beckoning demandingly. My head was in the clouds. I wanted to bury my mouth against his and just kiss the night away on his oh-so soft bed._

"_Surprise," Rick said. He tossed a box at me. I caught it and my heart jumped. Suddenly, I wasn't so tipsy anymore._

"_Condoms?" _

* * *

"I want all five boxes," I grunted, heaving the cases of Cadbury Caramilk bars onto the counter. I didn't usually eat caramel, because it left sticky crap in my teeth. Miraculously, I had never had a cavity in my entire life. I wanted to keep it that way.

The fleshy scar that covered the left side of my face was ugly enough.

Achmed's eyes bulged. "That will be fifty dollars," he said nervously. I smirked, and pulled out my wallet.

"Oh my, looks like I've only got a twenty," I said coolly. I dropped the bill in front of him. "That should be enough, right?"

Achmed nodded. "Twenty is enough," the cashier croaked.

As I left the store, I felt his eyes burn into my back.

* * *

An involuntary groan of humiliation escaped me as I continued to replay my memories of last night's utter failure of a one-year anniversary.

_Rick pulled his shirt off eagerly, exposing his smooth, tanned back and arms._

"_Rick, what are these for?" I asked a bit foolishly. At once, Rick whirled around and pounced on top of me. We'd made out a hundred times like this before, but I was a shivering wreck._

"_I think it's time for us to do this," my boyfriend said simply. Straddling me, he began to kiss me._

_My heart was hammering. Go ahead, it murmured dreamily. I'm not ready, my head shouted. I broke off the kiss, gasping a little._

"_I'm not ready," I stammered. Rick's eyes flashed._

"_We are," he stated smoothly. "We've been dating for a year now. We don't have to wait any longer."_

"_I want to wait," I insisted. "I want to wait until... marriage."_

_Rick laughed and shook his head. "Don't lie to yourself. I know you want this." With that, he slipped his hand up my shirt and cupped my left breast, squeezing boldly. We had never gone this far before. _

_A groan escaped me. But my head continued to scream at me. Stop! Stop now! Rick took my hand and placed it on the front of his jeans. He was hard, stiff._

"_Allie, I want you so bad," he whispered as he unzipped himself. _

_Something inside me snapped. A vague sensation that I had seen, heard, felt this before filled my mind. I pushed my boyfriend away. "No," I said firmly. Rick's face darkened. I froze at his expression._

_Where have I seen that before? I wondered. "No," I repeated._

"_We don't have to go all the way," Rick suggested. He yanked down his pants, along with his underwear. I couldn't help but stare; I had never seen one in real life before. It looked like a peeled sausage. He was smooth, uncut and long. _

_Face flushing, I sat up. "Rick..."_

"_That's my girl," my boyfriend said huskily, and before I could say another word he grabbed my head and pressed himself against my lips. _

_I jerked my head away in disgust. "No! Rick, stop it," I pleaded._

_Rick's shoulders dropped. "Can you at least jerk me off?" he growled._

"_What? No, I won't!" I cried. "What's wrong with you? I said I'm not ready!"_

_Rick got off the bed. "I'm going to the bathroom. And when I come out, you'd better be gone," he said coldly. I stared after him in disbelief as he left. Embarrassed, and choking back an apology, I fled his room, down the stairs and out of the house._


	3. Don't Ever Touch Mello's Bike

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or any of its characters/likeness. ****I do own the OC characters though.**

**Note: Italics are flashbacks. Line breaks mean switching characters' points of view. **

* * *

**Chapter 3: Don't Ever Touch Mello's Bike**

* * *

I sped down the road, arriving at Matt's apartment within minutes. I patted the cases of chocolates parked on the backseat of my motorcycle.

"I can't wait to eat you," I said fondly. I carried them inside after stashing my bike in the alley, sans lock. No one dared to touch it. It only happened once before, just yesterday. It would _never_ happen again...

...

"_Mello," Matt grunted, not looking up from his game. _

"_What?" I slurred, sprawled over the couch. I was half-asleep, numb from the painkillers._

"_Our surveillance isn't turning up anything," he yawned. I shot off the couch in annoyance. Matt dropped his console in alarm. _

"_Halle__ wouldn't have led us to Amane as the Second Kira if it wasn't true!" I snapped. "As much as I hate to admit it, Near is never wrong. Besides, we just started."_

_Matt fell silent. I reached out and tapped his goggles, which were casually strapped onto his head. "I will catch Kira, avenge L and best of all, beat Near," I reminded him. "You volunteered for this."_

"_I only planned to help out a friend," Matt shot back. He glanced up at me, his gaze lingering on the long scar running down my face. He softened. "Mello, they know your name. I could lose you at any moment."_

"_I won't go without a fight," I said confidently. "They still need my face. No one else but you, Near and the SPK know my face. My identity..." Something was nudging me at the back of my mind. I pushed it aside. All the others at the orphanage were now dead. A, B, L, Watari. As for the Mafia...Rod Ross and his lackeys were all dead, by Kira's hand and mine._

_And Near had just given my photo back, promising no copies were made._

"_The NPA are still looking for you," Matt warned. Just at that moment, a large crash sounded outside, followed by the sound of an engine coughing._

_I met Matt's eyes. We dashed for the side window. _

_Three storeys down, a large man was attempting to hotwire my bike, which had been sitting unlocked in the alleyway. _

_"The fuck?" Matt yelled, his cigarette dropping from his mouth in surprise. _

_The man looked up at us. _"_Lovely ride," he sneered, saluting mockingly. He kicked the bike into gear and screeched off. _

"_Idiot," I muttered, launching myself out the window and nimbly sliding down the pipes. "Where do you think you're going?" I called out. __I whipped out my gun and fired a perfect shot._

_A blank, but perfect nonetheless, as it had the desired effect._

_My poor bike veered out of control and the wannabe thief went flying into the wall. I raced after the bike and managed to break its fall. I shut it off, and the loud sputtering was silenced. _

_Then it was just me, and him. Matt watched from the window above._

_I casually made my way towards the fallen thug, delighting in watching the man's face change from an expression of embarrassment to one of horror with every heavy, echoing footstep I took. I stopped in from of him. _

"_I said, where do you think you're going?" I said softly. Then I kicked him hard. My leather military boot sunk into his thick gut. He cried out in pain. I kicked him again, and again._

"_Don't. Ever. Touch. My. Bike." Every word was followed by a vicious kick._

"_Stop!" he begged. His wet, beady eyes fell on the rosary that was dangling from my neck. "Have mercy! Have mercy!" _

"_Mello!" Matt drawled from his front row seat. I shot him a glare. "Come back in. Leave him alone. Spare him so he can spread the name of Mello," he said, deadpanned._

"_M-Mello? You're Mello?" the man squeaked. Ah, so he knew me. "I'm so sorry! I heard you were dead!" He shook, and cowered. I smiled, but the action sent a searing pain up my face. I gingerly prodded my cheek with a leathered finger. I needed more painkillers._

"_Go," I barked. "Or I'll kill you and your friends." The man scrambled up without hesitation and ran for it..._

_..._

I let myself through the back door and up the dimly-lit stairway, with the Caramilks firmly tucked under my arm. I smiled to myself. This time, the pain wasn't so bad.

* * *

The pain was unbearable.

I had been running so fast, I was out of breath. I stumbled onto the bridge, and fell to my knees. A passerby cast me a concerned look, but continued on her way.

I struggled out of my backpack. I unzipped it and took out the crushed roses that Rick left in my locker that morning. I was planning on throwing them back into his face but I didn't see him the whole day. He was definitely avoiding me. So I decided to cast them into the creek, but something stopped me.

There was a duck in the water.

I watched it, interested and grateful for the distraction. It was alone, floating around aimlessly. _It must be nice to be a duck._ I stared as it began to swim in circles. The scene was very familiar to me, but I couldn't place it. I clenched my fists in frustration.

It was always happening to me, and I hated it. I hated not remembering. My adoptive parents told me that I suffered an accident when I was twelve, and as a result, permanently lost a huge chunk of my earlier memory. Luckily, it did not affect my current cognitive abilities.

_Why does this duck seem important to me?_

"Allie..." It was Rick's voice. I was startled out of my pondering as my boyfriend materialized at my side.

"I knew I'd find you here," he said, relieved. I stood up, forcing myself to meet Rick's gaze. "I'm sorry I avoided you at school."

"Are you sorry about anything else?" I asked flatly. He awkwardly moved towards me, arms outstretched for a hug. I crossed my arms instead. He stepped back, a vague expression flitting across his features.

"Should I be?" My boyfriend scratched his sunbleached hair in confusion.

My blood was boiling. I'd never felt so irritated in my life. "Yes," I practically growled. I shook the flowers, which were clutched tightly in my fist, at him. "What were these for?"

"For apologizing to you, about last night," Rick explained, puzzled. "So what's wrong now? What else am I supposed to say sorry for?"

"You can't apologize to me with just _flowers_," I spat out. "Did you really expect me to forgive you so easily?" I tossed the bouquet at him. It hit him square in the chest and fell to the ground.

Rick's tanned skin reddened. "They were expensive," he muttered stiffly.

"That means nothing to me," I declared coldly. I was gambling here. My heart was in my throat, but I knew it was having the same effect on Rick.

"You're not thinking straight," my boyfriend stated. His tone was wavering between desperate and calm.

"I always do," I snapped, raising my chin. There was a tense moment of silence.

"I'm sorry. I...I was wrong to think I could buy an apology," Rick said in a low voice.

_Finally. _That was what I wanted to hear. I moved in for the hug, letting the relief wash over me in euphoric waves. Below us, the duck quacked, and I came to my senses. "Do you love me?" I whispered. Rick nodded, gripping me tightly. "Then we'll wait, okay?"

Rick paused. "Don't you love me?" he murmured. My heart sank, and I nodded slowly.

"Then why do we have to wait? Just give me a reason."


	4. Misa's Limelight

**Disclaimer: ****This chapter contains an excerpt from Volume 10 of the DN manga.**

**Note/Timeline Prompt: This story takes place _after_ the explosion at Mello's hideout. Hence his scar. **

**However, I've altered it so that Matt and Mello have already started their surveillance on Misa immediately after the Demegawa incident (November 25th), rather than them having to follow Aizawa/Mogi to L.A. from New York on the 27th. So right now, the current date of the story is the 27th, which is also the date of the excerpt.**

* * *

**Chapter 4: Misa's Limelight**

* * *

"That was fast," Matt commented as I kicked the door open.

"There weren't many cars," I said thoughtfully as I set my boxes down.

"It's because everyone here is scared of Kira," Matt said darkly. I nodded in agreement as I slit open a case and snagged a bar.

The regular citizens were always either hiding at home or at work, out of the public eye. Everyone was playing it safe. Nobody went to bars or clubs anymore. Our part of Los Angeles used to be notorious for drunken riots in the streets. Now the night life was completely dead. Gangs were driven further underground than ever before.

Secretly, I was relieved to have escaped the Mafia so easily. I had never wanted to join in the first place, but I deemed it necessary in order to get to Kira and the killer notebook. It wasn't easy working up the ranks, but even I was surprised how fast I became Rod Ross' right hand man. I frequently suffered guilt attacks at night, thinking of all the murders I'd committed to get there. How ironic that it was the Japanese Police...no, _Kira_, who killed off my boss and his members. I was lucky to escape with just a scar.

He had freed me, and doomed himself.

I gritted my teeth at the thought of catching him. Whoever he was.

* * *

"Liiiight!" Misa squealed happily. She ran to the door in excitement and peered through the peephole. "Oh..."

Her shoulders sagged in disappointment when she saw it was only Motchi and Monchichi. Maybe Light sent them with a message, or even presents perhaps? She opened the door, plastering a wide smile on her face.

"Long time no see! Light's too busy with the Kira investigation and won't come home, so I'm so bored," she exclaimed, blissfully unaware that Aizawa and Mogi were scrutinizing her frilly pink outfit suspiciously.

_It's impossible...she can't possibly have the notebook on her in those clothes.., _Aizawa thought to himself. "W-we had a tip-off that bombs have been planted in L's house and other places to kill L. I'm sure it's a hoax, but I've come to check it out just in case..." he announced, improvising quickly.

"What? To kill L? Could it be Kira? Is Light okay? Light's L now, right? Let me call him!" Misa cried, whipping out her cell phone.

"Don't use your phone!" Aizawa almost shouted. Misa stared at him with wide eyes.

"Why?" she inquired.

"Light's fine. Even though this tip is unconfirmed, if Light finds out that you're in danger, then he's not going to be able to keep his mind on the work. We've actually come here secretly," he explained a bit more calmly.

Misa nodded. "R-right. Light's deeply in love with me so he's going to be really worried about me!"

"Mogi and I will just check the apartment," Aizawa told her, and Misa flopped herself onto the couch in the centre of the room.

"Okaaaay," she said cheerfully.

Aizawa kept a close eye on Misa as Mogi searched every room. "So," Misa said conversationally, "how are your wife and daughter?"

Aizawa gave a curt reply. "They're fine."

"That's good! At least your wife is not alone all the time like Misa. Misa is so lonely in this big apartment by herself. Misa only has fun at the play. I don't like retirement," Misa huffed. She picked up a bridal magazine that was lying on the coffee table, and she perked up. "But it's what Light wants...a normal housewife. And I'll do my best!"

"What play?" Aizawa asked curiously. _Does Light know about it?_

"Oh..." Misa trailed off and turned pale. "Monchichi, don't tell Light!" she wailed. "But Misa was just so bored sitting at home! It's just a local play. It won't even make the papers. Misa will be okay."

"Sounds interesting," he grunted.

"It is, and it's about to get even more interesting," Misa said happily. "Misa is the understudy to the lead actress. And she's having problems remembering her lines, so one more strike will make Misa Misa a star just like back in Japan!"

"Huh," Aizawa muttered. He straightened when Mogi returned from his search. Mogi shook his head. _No notebook here._

"Aizawa, I've looked all around but haven't been able to find anything like a bomb," Mogi said.

"Okay, as we expected it, it's a hoax..." Aizawa trailed off. _But I still can't assume that the notebook isn't here just because we looked around...we must make sure that she doesn't have the notebook or anything else in hand when a criminal is killed after being reported on the news..._

"One of us will stay here to protect you and keep an eye on the house for the next few days just in case," Aizawa declared.

"Thank you," Misa said a bit worriedly.

"Okay, I'll stay," Aizawa decided. "You can go back to the headquarters now, Mogi." To his surprise, Misa shook her head vigorously.

"Oh, Monchichi's going to be the one staying here?" she said, pouting.

"Do I look that weak? I admit that Mogi has a better physique, but..."

"Oh no, that's not it! It's just that you're no longer Monchichi since you changed your hairstyle. So you're not cute anymore." This was met with a muffled guffaw from Mogi. Aizawa shot him a disapproving look.

"Mogi, you stay behind then," he growled. "You know what to do, right?"

"Yes, I'm sorry!" Mogi snapped to attention.

"What are you apologizing for?" Misa inquired innocently.

Aizawa humphed on his way out.

* * *

**A/N: The play that Misa refers to is the school play mentioned by Allie in the first chapter. It will be elaborated on later.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	5. Contemplation and Confrontation

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or any of its characters/likeness.****  
**

**Note: Foreshadowing in this chapter! Reminder that line breaks (or abnormally large gaps) are POV switches strictly between Allie and Mello, unless otherwise stated.**

* * *

**Chapter 5: Contemplation and Confrontation**

* * *

I tuned Rick out as a vague memory filled my head. I couldn't place it, but I knew I had known it once...

"_Just give me a reason."_

"_No, just stop it. Leave me alone."_

"_I won't. See this? I just sharpened it this morning."_

"_Put that away, please."_

"_As soon as we discuss it properly like two normal, human beings."_

"_Normal? You're not normal at all. I wouldn't even call you human."_

_..._

Rick shook me back to attention. "Allie," he said tightly. "Just give me a reason."

I was suddenly filled with a cold, irrational fear. "No, just stop it. Leave me alone." The words slipped out of my mouth, echoing, daring Rick to follow the script that replayed in my head. I stepped out of his arms warily.

But he didn't. He only shook his head. "You know what? Maybe I will. You're too immature for me, Allie. Call me when you grow up," he snapped. He turned on his heel abruptly, tossing the crumpled bouquet over the bridge rails, which landed with a quiet plop and splash. The duck quacked in annoyance and flapped a few feet away to safety.

My heart was racing, and my head was spinning. "You're breaking up with me," I called after my boyfriend. "Is that right?"

"That's right, genius," Rick yelled back. I reeled as if I had been slapped. Then I turned and ran in the opposite direction, not caring where my legs were taking me.

Twenty minutes later, I found myself downtown. Breathing hard, I stumbled into an alleyway between two apartments. I slid down against the wall, silent tears tracking down my face.

_I'm alone_. _I'm all alone again._

I hadn't felt this alone since I had first arrived at the Robinsons five years ago. Sure, they had taken me in like the second child they couldn't have. And their only daughter was friendly as well. She was away studying at Harvard University in Boston, which left her parents lonely and with money to burn. So they welcomed with me with wide open arms.

But there was no mistaking that I was an outsider that did not belong. I was half European, half Asian, and initially spoke with an accent. I was told I was raised in England and brought over here to recover from the accident. This accent gradually disappeared as I quickly learned to adapt to my classmates at Los Angeles Coast High. My accent was now a distant memory.

I recalled, however, that my background wasn't well received by a lot of the girls at LAC High. They shot me looks of disdain every time I chanced a visit to the washroom. I was very self-conscious about my heritage, which I didn't even know much about personally, and couldn't understand why they appeared to dislike me so much. All I wanted was to be liked, even loved. I found that in Sara and Rick. Later, they both told me I was the first Eurasian to ever grace their halls. A lot of guys were intrigued by me, so naturally, their girlfriends hated me for it.

Rick and Sara were my only friends, but Sara's loyalty was definitely with Rick. They had known each other since they were kids. I had no idea what to expect tomorrow, now that Rick and I had broken up. I shuddered as the pain of being alone and unanchored ripped through me once again.

_Plip._

A drop of water fell from the sky, landing on my nose with a little splash.

I glanced up, surprised. I had been too busy crying and brooding to notice the rapidly darkening sky. _Oh no. _I hated the rain. I needed to get home, fast, before the weather got even worse.

I scanned my surroundings, and my eyes fell on an abandoned motorcycle, which was partially hidden behind two garbage bins and propped up against the apartment's emergency exit. _Perfect._

A reckless, unbidden thrill ran through me.

_So Rick, I'm not wild enough for you, huh? I'll show you wild. _

* * *

I shivered suddenly.

"Matt, shut the window but keep the blinds open," I ordered, biting off another square tentatively. "I'm cold."

Matt glanced up briefly. "That's because it's raining."

"Shit! Since when?" I barked. Matt stared at me, startled. "If it's raining, visibility will be a problem."

"Chill." The gamer lazily waved it off. "I doubt they would sneak off during the rain."

"You're right." I relaxed a bit, until a strange yet familiar sound met my ears. It was the sound of a coughing engine. Matt looked up at me, exasperated.

"When are you ever going to learn?" he quipped. "You need to get a lock!"

"When are _they_ ever going to learn?" I snarled, running towards the window at the other side of the room. I half-expected to see the same heavyset thief from before, fiddling with my bike.

I was wrong.

I gaped for a moment at the soaked girl that was attempting to climb onto the seat of my gleaming, black motorcycle.

"Uh oh," Matt sang as he appeared by my elbow. "Whatcha gonna do about that?"

"I'll teach the bitch a lesson," I replied flatly, tucking my unfinished bar into my belt before climbing out of the window and down the pipes.

* * *

I heard him before I saw him.

"I'll teach the bitch a lesson," a hard voice floated out of the window above me. And then it hit me - the motorcycle wasn't abandoned after all. I was practically stealing it from under the owner's nose!

I shut off the bike, leaping off of it as if it had caught fire. I whirled around just as I felt someone rush up behind me.

"I'm sorry!" I shouted over the now-pounding rain, backing away down the alleyway.

A black, leathered hand shot out at me.

"I didn't know this was yours," I yelled, desperate to make myself heard. But my words died in my throat as the gloved hand had begun to tighten around my neck. _Shit...can't...breathe..._I blinked rapidly as the world swiftly turned black all around me.

* * *

"What do you think you're doing?" I sneered as I wrapped my fingers around the girl's neck, while the rain continued to come down in buckets.

The girl was silent. I shook my wet bangs out of my face, and peered closely at her. I checked her eyes. She appeared to be unconscious. _Shit! _

I released my grip on her throat, and shook her instead. "Wake up!" I hissed. I had to make sure she wasn't faking it. I ferociously slapped her across her face. Her head lolled back.

"Mello!" Matt stuck his head out the window. "What's going on?"

"She fainted!" I hollered back. I propped the girl against the bricked wall and turned to leave.

"Mello, bring her inside! She'll catch death out there!" Matt called out above the noise of the rain.

"Why should I care?" I growled. Matt disappeared for a moment, and returned with my box of chocolates. "What the hell, Matt!"

"Be a gentleman and bring her inside or the Caramilks get it!" Matt threatened, dangling the case.

"Damn you!" I went back to the girl's limp body and heaved her over my shoulder before returning inside, into the dry warmth. Two minutes later, Matt and I were huddled around the girl's body, debating where to put her. At the moment, she was lying on the floor.

"She's pretty cute," Matt remarked, game cast aside. I rolled my eyes.

"Whatever. She's probably a hooker." I prodded at her roughly. She was definitely out cold.

"She's not dressed like one. And she's got a backpack on. She's just a student," Matt said thoughtfully. "What would a student be doing in an area like this?"

"More importantly, why was she trying to steal my bike?" I lifted the girl off the ground. "Let's put her in the bathroom. We can interrogate her later."

"Wait!"

"What?"

"We...uh...should get her out of those wet clothes," Matt said sheepishly.

I cast him a disgusted look. "I didn't know you were such a pervert!"

"I'm not! She might get sick, that's all," Matt insisted. I rolled my eyes once again.

"Be my guest," I told him, and dumped the girl into his waiting arms. I busied myself with the rest of my chocolate bar as Matt carefully selected an outfit and a clean towel from his closet and went to work.

* * *

**A/N: Matt's just being a nice guy. ****And Mello is Mello. Sigh. **

**Thanks for reading!**


	6. In a Strange Bathroom

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or any of its characters/likeness, just ****the OCs and the alternate plotline that I hope everyone will like :)**

* * *

**Chpater 6: In a Strange Bathroom**

* * *

When I came to, I was looking up at a cracked, yellow ceiling. But more importantly, it was completely unfamiliar. I sat up, and realized I was in a bathtub. _Oh man, where the hell am I?_

My head was pounding. I looked down and suppressed a gasp. I was dressed in clothes that were not mine: an oversized black t-shirt and baggy grey sweatpants. I scanned the tiny bathroom, and spotted my red blouse and black jeans hanging from a towel rack. Someone must've undressed me. My face burned horribly at the thought.

_What the hell happened?_

For a terrible moment, I thought I had lost my memory again; that I'd been in another accident...but that wouldn't make sense, as I clearly wasn't in a hospital.

I gingerly got out of the tub, trying to not make a sound, and approached the cracked mirror that hung from the browned wall. I winced at my reflection. My hair was a damp, tangled mess, and I had a faint bruise on my throat. It all came flooding back to me as I looked at myself.

I had lost my mind, decided to hotwire a motorcycle, and was attacked by its owner. But that didn't really explain where I was, or why I was here. That's when I heard voices from the next room.

"So? A lot of people have one."

"Yeah, but hers... you can't deny that it looks _just_ like - "

I didn't bother waiting for them to finish. I stepped out of the bathroom, revealing myself to the two strangers.

"What," I said shakily, "the hell am I doing here?"

* * *

We were discussing the girl when she suddenly came out of the bathroom, pale as a ghost.

"What the hell am I doing here?" were her first words.

I was in her face in a flash. "What the hell were you doing with my bike?" I hissed, and I pushed her into the nearest wall. The girl gasped as I pinned her arms behind her.

"Whoa, Mello, calm down," Matt yelled. He jumped off his beanbag and put a hand on my shoulder. "She's only a girl."

"What's your name?" I demanded, ignoring Matt. It didn't matter to me that she was a girl.

"M-My name is..." she stammered, closing her eyes briefly.

"Allie Robinson," Matt piped up unexpectedly.

"How–?" _Allie _and I asked in unison.

Matt grinned. "I looked in her backpack. Sorry," he directed his apology at her. She nodded slightly.

"Well, Allie," I sneered, diverting her attention. "Tell me why you were trying to take my bike. Do you know who you're dealing with?"

The girl raised her head, and looked at me properly for the first time. To her credit, her gaze didn't linger on my scar. Instead, she looked right into my eyes and stayed silent. I admired her nerve.

Then Matt piped up. "Can you at least tell us how you got that scar on your stomach, then?"

Allie turned bright red at his words. "You..._you_ changed me, didn't you?"

* * *

**A/N: That is all I have written so far. I wrote these all in class the past two weeks, so I'll try to update the story every other day, and at least once a week.**


	7. Suspicions

**Disclaimer: I do not own DN, Caramilk, or Nintendo DS.**

* * *

**Chapter 7: Suspicions**

* * *

My face was burning. "You..._you _changed me, didn't you?" I exclaimed, gesturing at my baggy outfit. It suddenly occurred to me that I was still wearing my bra and underwear, which were dry. I thanked the heavens for that. At least my dignity was still intact. No one, not even Rick, ever saw me naked before. "Ugh, what the hell!" My hands uselessly fluttered in front of my chest as if to protect me from his leering eyes.

"You're welcome," the redhead snipped sarcastically. "I only did it so you wouldn't get sick. But tell us, we're curious."

The blond man – _Mello_ – stuck his face even closer to mine. I could smell chocolate on his breath. _Mmm__, _I couldn't help thinking. Mentally, I kicked myself. This was no time to crave sweets. My current situation was anything but sweet. "What were you doing with my bike?" he repeated, his blue-green eyes glittering dangerously.

"Wait! How did you get that scar?"

"Why were you trying to steal my bike?"

"Tell us about your scar."

"Spill it!"

"Come on!"

"Shut up, Matt!" The blond shoved his friend away. "Well?"

I stared into his eyes, determined to not stare at the hideous slash that deformed half of his face. Whatever, I had nothing to lose. "I wanted to get home, fast. Simple as that. Can I go now? It's getting late." I shifted uncomfortably between the boy's leather-clad body and the bumpy, plaster wall.

"That doesn't explain what you were doing _here_," he snapped. "You are in gang territory. Did you know that?" I felt my jaw drop. _Gang territory? Fuck! I'm going to die! _My senses kicked into high gear. I felt my eyes fill with tears. Oh no. I didn't want these two thugs to see me cry. I willed myself not to. It was no use. I was deteriorating right in front of them. After all that had happened today, I was on the verge of a major breakdown. But that didn't matter, now that I was going to _die._

"No, I didn't," I whispered in a small voice. My heart jumped to my throat.

_I'm going to die today. _

To make things even worse, my empty stomach chose that moment to rumble. My cheeks were aflame. I would've laughed if I wasn't going to die in the next few minutes.

The blond man, Mello, wrinkled his nose distastefully and released me.

_This has to be the worst and last day of my life._

* * *

I let go of the girl.

"You don't... happen to like chocolate, do you?" I asked, surprising myself.

The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Then Matt broke the silence. "What?" he exclaimed, slapping his thighs. His freshly-lit cigarette fell out of his mouth, burning a hole in the already-dirtied carpet. "You're _offering_ her your chocolate? Why?"

I couldn't say it yet, not now. I only wanted an opportunity to just... talk. And time to think.

There had been a growing sense of unease in the pit of my stomach ever since Matt called me over while he was changing the girl, to show me the curiously long, pale streak across her just as pale stomach. It was obviously a scar; a cut that had been stitched up or treated so well, it was almost invisible.

_No, it can't be. It's impossible._

My hand shook at the thought of it.

_Impossible!_

"I...do..." the girl mumbled. An immense expression of relief – and a hint of suspicion – settled on her features.

"Hard to imagine, you being so tiny and all," Matt drawled. He picked up his cigarette and stuck it back between his lips.

I strolled over to my boxes, and returned with two new bars. "Here, take this," I told her, handing her one. I gave the other one to Matt, who clutched at his chest mockingly.

"I'm so honoured!" Matt gasped. "But no thanks." He tossed it back to me. "Just knowing that you would is what matters the most."

To my surprise, the girl, Allie, managed a brief smile. "Thank you. I'm sorry for everything," she said earnestly. "I'm sorry for trying to take your motorcycle. And I'm sorry for intruding on your...territory." She unwrapped the chocolate and took a bite. She stood there awkwardly.

Matt and I chortled. "Oh no, _we're_ not in any gang," I snickered. "In fact, we scared a lot of them away."

The girl's eyes widened. "How?"

"Mello here is – was – in the Mafia. Before it fell apart," Matt said a bit darkly. He never did approve of my actions, but he understood why I had to do it. After I came searching for him to enlist his help in continuing my fight to capture Kira, I broke down and told him everything I had done. Including how I beheaded a bastard for Ross to gain his trust.

Matt was more than my friend. He was like the Confessional priest I'd hadn't seen in years.

Allie stopped eating her chocolate. "The _Mafia_? Are y-you s-serious?" She turned even paler than I'd thought possible. "Oh, God!"

"I'm not going to hurt you," I said hurriedly.

I didn't want to spook her. Gears were churning in my head, and I was itching to ask her a million questions.

"You really think I'm going to trust someone like you?" she replied shakily, narrowing her eyes.

Matt jumped to my defence. "Mello only hurts people when it's necessary."

I cracked an encouraging smile at her, though it probably came out more like a grimace. "And it's not necessary right now."

The girl nodded slowly. "Well, I should...I should go then. Thanks for your...er...hospitality."

Matt retreated into the bathroom and returned with Allie's damp clothes. "Here," Matt said, handing her the blouse and jeans. "You can keep my stuff if you want." He winked at her. She turned incredibly pink. I raised a brow, trying not to snort. _  
_

She inched towards the door. "Um, thanks again. I'll be going now..."

"But it's raining," Matt pointed out. "You're not walking in that! You should stay with us, for a while." Allie looked scandalized, as if he was suggesting her to sleep over. But I saw this as a chance; it was the perfect opportunity...

"Get the car ready. We'll take her home," I ordered Matt, giving him a meaningful look. Matt nodded. He understood. The redhead swiped his car keys off wall hook beside the door, and bounded out of the room.

An awkward silence filled the room. The girl – Allie – finished her chocolate, looking at everything but me. "Hey," I said.

"Yes?" she immediately replied, with a nervous expression on her face.

"Where do you live?"

"Oh yeah," she said. "Um, I live near the coast. It's just twenty minutes away. I live by the local high school."

My ears perked up, catching a fleeting trace of an English accent. I gripped my rosary tightly. _N__ear the coast...near the coast...near. Near..._

"What's the matter?" she suddenly asked. She looked at the death grip I had on my necklace. _Oops_. I let go of it, and instead went to the door.

"Nothing. Let's go. Matt should have the car ready by now." I gestured for her to follow.

"Okay..."

With that, we both hurried out of the apartment.

* * *

**A/N: I'm trying to foreshadow as much as possible, but it's not too subtle, is it? **

**Read, enjoy and review if possible :)**


	8. Ride From a Stranger

**A/N: To any Canadians out there- Happy Victoria Day :)**

**Sidenote: I'd appreciate it if someone is able to tell me why, according to story traffic/story stats, this story has 0 hits/visitors? That wouldn't make sense as there's been some reviews already.**

* * *

**Chapter 8: Ride From a Stranger**

* * *

I was literally twiddling my thumbs as I sat stiffly in the front next to the redhead, who was driving through the rain at breakneck speed. My heart was in my throat. How he could see anything while wearing those goggles was a mystery to me. I had wanted to sit in the back but...

"I call shotgun," Mello had demanded, only to be waved off by his friend.

"The pretty girl gets to sit with me. Are you a pretty girl, Mello?"

The leather-clad blond man was now seething quietly in the backseat.

"So," Matt suddenly turned to me, "Mello said you live by LAC High?"

I couldn't help myself. "Yes! But eyes on the road," I cried, pointing at the windshield. I closed my eyes, shutting out the view of the blurring road.

I felt his warm breath on my left ear. "You're in no position to tell me how to drive. After all, you accepted a ride from a stranger," Matt whispered.

Mello chuckled from the back. "And candy," he added.

I opened my eyes and shot them both looks of suspicion. "What...?" was all I could manage.

"Relax, we're only teasing," Mello muttered. "Do you want more, by the way?" I checked the rear view mirror. Sure enough, he was holding another bar of chocolate.

I didn't reply.

* * *

I was lounging in the backseat, secretly fuming. I was always either the driver, or riding shotgun. Matt had never _ever _let anyone else in the front since he learned how to drive. I was _always _next to him, at the front, just the two of us.

Then again, Matt always had a weakness for chicks.

I stared at the back of Allie's head. I had a gut feeling about her. The beginnings of a plan were coming together in my mind. I knew it was a risk; I had just come back from New York a few days ago, when Near had to relocate after the incident with Demegawa and his mob. Deep down, I was pleased that Mogi and the SPK were able to escape so easily. It proved that Kira could be beaten.

_Near, _I mused. _Halle has told me about your suspicions about Misa Amane. __That is why I got Matt to pinpoint her location; that is why we rented an apartment across from her place just two days ago. Is it safe to leave surveillance? No, Matt can stay here by himself, but I need to go back to New York._

Yes, I decided. I was going back to New York. And I was going to take Allie Robinson with me.

* * *

Besides Matt running through every single red light, the rest of the ride was uneventful. I gave Matt a few directions and in no time at all, he parked right in front of my – no, the Robinsons' – house.

"Hey, what do you know," Mello smirked. "We made it in one piece!" I nodded, trembling a bit from the rush of Matt's crazy driving.

"Thank you for the ride," I said awkwardly. "And again, I apologize for intruding, and... yeah." I looked out the window. Good, the rain had lightened up considerably into a drizzle. I opened the passenger door and stepped out of the car. I glanced over it and immediately thought, _This Matt guy sure likes red._

"One moment," Mello's voice called out. He rolled down the window and peered up at me. "Can I have your number?" He tossed me a cell phone. I caught it, surprised.

"Er, why?" I felt myself blushing furiously, like a schoolgirl.

"Why not?" he countered.

"I only give it to my...friends." That's when I remembered Rick, and my heart sank. He wasn't really serious about breaking up, was he? I was still hoping we could make up. After all, he was one of the few friends I had here, and one year was a lot to just throw away.

The blond man gave me an ominous, toothy grin. "I'm a friend."

Matt poked his head out of the passenger-side window. "So am I!"

I frowned. "We just met." _And I don't want to be friends with an ex-mafia._

"We'll need your number in case I want that shirt back. It used to be my favourite before I got into stripes," Matt informed me.

"Well...okay then," I sighed. There was really no point in arguing. They knew where I lived now, and I owed them for not beating me into a bloody pulp. And for the chocolate. I punched in my cell number, and handed Mello his phone back, who immediately dialled the number. It was probably to make sure I didn't give him a fake one.

We locked eyes as my cell phone started to ring. _Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle all the waaay! _my phone tinkled. Mello sneered, and snapped his phone shut. My cell stopped ringing.

"Christmas isn't till a month," he said bluntly.

"It's called getting into the spirit of things," I muttered.

"Are we just going to sit here and chit-chat? I don't like to idle!" Matt broke in. Before I could answer, he waved at me cheerfully and roared off. Taken back, I weakly waved after the cherry-red car.

* * *

"So where should we park?" Matt asked me.

"Three blocks away should be enough," I said, looking out my window at the large, gleaming building that was LAC High. We drove slowly past the school.

"We came here just yesterday, didn't we?"

"Yeah," I answered. "Tailing Misa Amane." After chatting up a few of the girls on the campus, Matt had managed to find out that Misa had been invited to help direct the annual play.

"What a coincidence," Matt commented.

"What do you mean?"

"When I was going through that girl's bag, I saw a script for the same play they're putting on," he said. "That must mean Allie and Misa know each other."

I narrowed my eyes. That sealed it.

"Interesting, my dear Watson," I muttered.

* * *

**Belated disclaimer: I do not own Death Note OR Sherlock Holmes.**


	9. A Note, a Memory, and a Shower

**A/N: I'm back with a new chapter! ****I just want to thank Rainbow Rant for the encouraging reviews so far, and also for the help; I can see the story traffic now.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, Another Note, or Mulan's song 'Reflection.'**

**Side note: The Itchen is a major river in England, that flows through Winchester. **

**ANOTHER IMPORTANT NOTE: I'm sorry if this will bother any die-hard Beyond Birthday arc fans, but I exercised some 'license' and changed the date of his LA BB-Case murders. Instead of taking place in August 2002, his killings take place in early January 2004 (BB dies on January 21st, 2004, if you may recall/have read). I've also taken out any mention of Naomi Misora (as she dies January 2, 2004 in canon). **

* * *

**Chapter 9: A Note, a Memory, and a Shower**

* * *

"I'm home!"

I shut the door behind me. I was met with an unexpected silence, and I paused on my way to the kitchen, dumping my backpack onto the floor.

"Hello?" Nothing. "Anyone here?" Still nothing. I was surprised. It was Friday, which was my adoptive parents' day off. Where could they have gone?

I ventured into the well-kept kitchen, where I noticed a lime green Post-It note stuck to the fridge. I made a beeline for it, and peeled it off.

"_Dear Allie_," I read, "_There was an emergency at the office. There was a large theft in the archives. Don't wait up for us; dinner is in the fridge. Love, Mom and Dad_." I shook my head sadly. What kind of person would steal library books?

_Poor Mr and Mrs Robinson_. They had worked hard all their lives to open up a library of their own, and were now the proud co-owners of one of the biggest collection of children's literature in Los Angeles. I sometimes helped out in my spare time. I loved the musky and comforting smell of all the books gathered lovingly under the large roof of the neoclassical building.

Not to mention that Rick and I spent countless hours there together, hidden behind the bookshelves, making out.

I opened the fridge. Not only were my foster parents great, caring people, they were great cooks too. I cheered inwardly at the sight of a cellophane-wrapped pan of lasagne. It was the perfect comfort food.

And God only knew how badly I needed comfort food.

I glanced at my watch. It was half past five. There was just enough time to heat up the food, take a shower and catch the 6 o'clock news.

* * *

We stopped three blocks from Allie's residence. Matt lit another cigarette while I gathered my thoughts.

"What are you planning, Mello?" Matt pulled his goggles off and looked back at me intently. Without any distractions, he could be pretty damn sharp.

"What do you mean?" I grunted, playing dumb. I toyed with the gold wrapper of my half-finished Caramilk. Matt's green eyes flashed with impatience.

"You got her number. You don't have anyone's number except for the guys at the NPA, Halle's and mine. What are you getting at? Don't tell me you're – "

"Nothing like that," I assured him. "I just want to be able to track her."

"That's not creepy at all."

I gave Matt a whack on the head. "Ow!" he whined, rubbing his head gingerly. "But seriously, why? Are we abducting her or something?"

"Not if I can help it," I said darkly. I wasn't too comfortable with the idea of kidnapping another person, especially another girl. The last I heard, Sayu Yagami was still traumatized by the exchange for the Death Note. _Another heavy burden to carry on my shoulders_, I thought grimly.

"Then what? What's this about?"

"Matt..." I took a deep breath. "Do you remember Backup and Alternative?"

Matt set his jaw and nodded.

Six years ago, just one year before L and Watari were killed by Kira, Wammy's House was at its best, thriving like never before. There had never been so many orphaned genii under one roof, so much competition. Everyone wanted to be L's successor, it was our ultimate goal.

There was Matt and I, and Near of course. We were at the top...no, near the top.

No one even came close to Backup and Alternative, the original and the brightest. Deep down we already knew that L would pick one of them or even both of them at the end, but we competed tirelessly against them anyway. One day, it all fell apart...

...

"_So Roger, any word from L yet?" I demanded, drumming my fingers on Roger's desk impatiently. The old codger winced at the noise. It was one of his pet peeves, but I couldn't help it. I was itching for my guitar, which he'd confiscated after I performed an extremely inappropriate song in the cafeteria for Matt's entertainment._

_"Actually, yes- he's narrowed it down to a select few," Roger sighed. From the sound of it, I was in._

_"I'm in?" I asked to make sure._

"Yes, Mello, you're in – as well as Matt." He sighed again. "After A, B and N." _Alternative, Backup, and Near_. I clenched my fists. Of course Near would be picked before me. He beat me at everything.

Speaking of the devil...

"Roger! Help!" Near burst into the room. His white hair was plastered all over his sweaty face. I perked up, a chill prickling down my spine. Near never raised his voice. He rarely got agitated either.

"What is it, Near?" Roger asked, alarmed. Near came over and grabbed me. I recoiled in resentment, then stopped, surprised. His normally blank eyes were bright with fear.

"It's B," he practically shouted. "He's in Ax's room." Ax was his nickname for Alternative, and it had caught on like wildfire. I had to admit it suited her.

"So?" I sneered, hiding my worry. Beyond Birthday, as Backup liked to call himself, was the most unstable person at Wammy's, and everyone knew he had a crush on Alternative.

She, on the other hand, never returned his affections. Although she and Beyond were on the same level of intellect and maturity, they were years apart. She mostly hung around with Near. Although I hated Near, I couldn't hate Ax. Nobody could. She was brilliant but never showed off. She was cool even for an eleven year old.

"Please, Mello," Near whispered. My heart skipped a beat. "Beyond locked the room-"

That was all I needed to hear. I was out the door in a flash, taking the stairs three steps at a time. Near was close on my heels. "Hurry, Mello!"

"B, stop! Please!" we heard Ax scream as we reached her room. A wave of horror seized me. What was he doing to her? I took a few steps back and charged, ramming into the door with all my strength. Despite the state-of-the-art hinges, it was no match for an adrenaline-charged fourteen-year-old. The door slammed open. Near and I scrambled in, and froze, stunned at the horrible sight.

Beyond Birthday was straddling Ax on the bed, naked from the waist down. His thighs were smeared with blood. I resisted the urge to vomit. Ax was chest naked, and her hands were tied to the bedposts with cotton strips.

"Get out!" he growled at us, waving a knife wildly. "I'm not done with her!"

Near approached the bed, hesitating as he kept his eyes on Beyond's knife. It looked newly sharpened.

Ax whimpered. "Near!"

"Move!"

I pounced on Beyond's swinging hand, knocking the knife out of his grasp and onto the floor. "Near, get the knife," I ordered as I struggled to pin Beyond's arms behind his back. He screeched inhumanly. Without meaning to, I stole a glance at Ax, who had fainted from shock. She had a long, bloody gash running down her chest and stomach, which was also stained with...jam.

Near carefully picked the knife off the floor. Then he suddenly pointed it at Beyond.

"Get dressed."

Beyond stopped struggling in my arms and stared in surprise at Near, who fixed him with the coldest glare I had ever seen. I threw Beyond onto the floor in disgust and went to guard the door.

The older boy lay there for a moment, trembling, before getting up on his feet. He snatched his jeans and pulled them on as Near continued to keep him at bay with the knife.

"Happy now, you albino bastard?" Beyond hissed at Near. Near said nothing.

"Watari will hear of this. And you will never succeed L," I snapped, relishing every word.

"I'm not interested in succeeding L anymore," Beyond whispered, a lazy grin stretching his face. He turned his dark eyes towards me, chuckling softly. His gaze flickered to a spot above my head. "Little do you know...that I'm already on my way to becoming the world's greatest criminal!"

"You're an abomination," Near stated flatly. "And L will put you in jail for attacking Ax."

"He'll have to catch me first," he cackled. "Merry Christmas, River. Good-bye, Keehl. See you both in hell!" He rushed past me to make his escape. Near stared after him, his face twitching.

My stomach dropped. How did he know - ? I didn't bother trying to stop him as he fled. He was gone, and that was all that mattered.

"Mello," Near said softly. "Let's get Ax to the infirmary."

_One month later, Wammy's House received the news that convict Beyond Birthday had finally been captured in Los Angeles after murdering three people, thanks to L and the FBI. His arrest had been triumphantly broadcasted. He was promptly thrown in jail, where he died immediately...of a heart attack._

_This was during the rise of Kira._

_At the time Beyond's death reached our ears, Ax was still in therapy. Her wound had healed quite well (thanks to Watari's creams), but her mind had not. That was a problem, as she was now officially and solely first in line to become L's heir. That night, she snapped. The next morning, she was found at the bottom of the Itchen. She had just turned twelve a week ago..._

_... _

I was jolted out of my reverie as Matt clapped me on the shoulder. He nodded. He understood.

"Good luck, mate."

I opened the car door stepped out. "There's no point in both of us waiting here. Matt, go back to our place and keep an eye on Amane and Mogi. I'll call when I want you to pick us up."

Matt started up the car and gave me a thumbs up. I watched him speed away. Then I began to stroll back in the direction of the Robinsons' residence.

* * *

"When will myyyy reflection shoooow who I aaam insiiiiiide?"

I was singing to myself as I lathered on more shampoo. I was never one to sing in the shower, but I had a good reason to do so. I gritted my teeth. Practice made perfect. If I wasn't perfect enough, Mr. Jones would have to replace me with Misa Amane.

I had to admit, the Japanese woman had a great voice. But she had no right to butt into my role, though Mr. Jones was equally to blame. He had spotted her while shopping downtown, and upon recognizing the famous model, singer and actress from Japan, he immediately invited her to assist in directing this year's play – a modern day retelling of _Mulan_.

She jumped at the opportunity. She explained that life as a young, retired housewife was too boring for her. Initially, everyone on the cast was excited to meet her. But things had started on the wrong foot right away.

First, Misa had complained that my voice was too throaty. And then she made a few comments about my hair, and my height.

"_Misa-Misa thinks the modern Mulan should be blonde! That's all the rage these days!"_

"_Misa-Misa thinks the modern Mulan should be a bit taller...you're a bit short!"_

Then she asked me the inevitable question.

"_So what are you?" _

I told her I didn't know.

"_You look half Japanese to Misa. Or half Chinese. Or half Korean. Or – "_

I only shrugged. It wasn't long before Misa insisted on being my understudy, in the event that something should happen to me.

"ARGH!" I yelled in frustration. I could only imagine how much more badly I'd perform in the next rehearsal, after Rick dumped me today.

That was when I noticed a shadowy figure on the other side of the shower curtains. Slim, tall, shoulder-length hair. "Mom?" I squinted. "Is that you, Monica?"

I opened the curtains, poking my head out into the steamy air. And I came face to face with...Mello.

* * *

**A/N: Mello sure likes hiding out in bathrooms.**

**The back story with B will be expanded on much later. This was just a taste.**

**Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. ****Review if possible :) Thanks!**


	10. Hidden Key

**A/N: Thank you to all my wonderful reviewers. You have no idea how flattered I am! **

**Note: I do not own Death Note. But I do own this 'alternative' plot. Oh, and ****I couldn't find the official make of Mello's gun, but I did find something. Google "beretta 92 mihael keehl".**

**This chapter contains an excerpt from Volume 10, Page 76-77. This is for continuity purposes, so you know EXACTLY where/when the story is going.**

* * *

**Chapter 10: Hidden Key**

* * *

I was strutting down Allie's street, completely aware that I stood out like a sore thumb.

I observed my surroundings as I walked. The houses were impressive and pristine; their lawns were a healthy green, wet and sparkling from the afternoon rain. Gleaming cars sat in every driveway. This was undoubtedly one of the many upper-class neighbourhoods that populated L.A.

My lip curled in disdain. I've never had a problem with accessing money. Matt and I splurged constantly on chocolate and leather clothing (for me), video games and cigarettes (for him).

_But all this – luxury for life – I could never have, _I thought bitterly. Then again, I had always known that.

Two minutes later I was standing on the Robinson's front porch, which was overflowing with potted orchids. I stared at the door, which was set with a brass lion head door knocker. For the first time ever, I was unsure of what to do. _Should I knock or ring the doorbell? _I hadn't done either in years.

I eyed the lion head. _Do people actually use this thing? _I lifted the handle and rapped three times, loudly and sharply. For a second, I considered jumping into the bushes. What if Allie's parents answered the door?

I was in no condition to introduce myself.

I caught my reflection in the porch window. With half of my face gruesomely scarred, I was the poster boy for danger... which I neither loved nor hated. I was donning my usual quilted leather vest, leather jeans, gloves and matching boots. My silver-plated Beretta 92 was bulging out of my waistband. The only thing that looked out of place was my red-beaded rosary.

I listened intently for footsteps for a minute. There were none. I glanced behind me at the driveway. There was only one car, but clearly Mr and Mrs Robinson weren't home. I frowned. I rang the doorbell instead, and again, I waited, but no one came.

Irked, I pulled my cell out of my pocket and speed-dialled Allie's number. It rang six times before I hung up, annoyed. _She's probably in the shower_, I guessed.

I was in no mood to wait any longer. I began to look around for a way to get in.

My gaze strayed to the pots of flowers that lined the porch, and noticed something that made me groan out loud. There was an iris plant, hidden among all the purple orchids. It was one of the oldest tricks in the book. I dug a gloved finger into the dirt.

I grinned triumphantly as I pulled out the hidden key.

* * *

"I'm back." Aizawa shut the door behind him.

Light visibly stiffened. Matsuda jumped up to greet him. "Aizawa!"

"Mogi's alive," Aizawa stated, watching for Light's reaction.

"Really?" Matsuda cried.

Light didn't turn around. "I'm glad," he said, "but how do you know that Mogi's alive?"

Aizawa paused before answering. "Let me say it straight. I've been to see Near."

"What?" Matsuda exclaimed.

Light continued to tap away at the computers. "As I said, people who want to cooperate with him can do so, since Near seems to suspect me. You don't have to get permission from me to see him," he said. Light finally looked up from his work, and turned around to face him. "And what did you talk about? What did Near say?"

Aizawa stood there, unsure of how to answer.

"Oh, don't tell me. It's probably strange for me to ask you about it," Light said, smiling slightly.

Aizawa took a breath and unbuttoned his coat. "I want to believe that you are not Kira. No, I want to be certain about it. But considering what the former L and Near said, I can't say with certainty that you're not Kira...so...I apologize that we're going to be going through the same thing again, but until we can be certain...until Kira is caught, Mogi, Ide and I will keep an eye on you. Mogi has already come back to L.A. and is at Amane's place right now. I've told Ide about it too, so he should be coming back soon."

Light nodded. "Very well. That's fine. I'm just going to be on the lookout for Kira, as before," he said calmly.

Aizawa narrowed his eyes.

* * *

Right away, I noticed three things as I crept through the house.

One, there was a tantalizing smell of tomatoes and cheese wafting out of the kitchen. I sniffed the air impulsively.

Two, the house was very well-kept. I had grudgingly yanked off my boots and placed them by the door, feeling slightly guilty about the muddy tracks I already left.

And three, there were many family portraits adorning the walls. With a twisted satisfaction, I saw that Allie's parents and older sister were all Caucasian. Allie was obviously adopted.

One portrait in particular caught my eye – it was the largest one. My heart jumped out of my chest. It was inscribed: _"Welcoming our beautiful daughter Alexandra into the family." _

And sure enough, twelve year old Allie...Alexandra... Ax..._Alternative... _was smiling out at me from the picture, looking exactly how I remembered her – trademark chestnut pixie cut, small hazel eyes, fair skin, pale lips, and plump, rounded cheeks.

I almost stopped breathing. I could hardly believe my eyes.

I chided myself for not recognizing her right away, but that was reasonable. After all, she was supposed to be dead. I couldn't believe how drastically she had changed in just six years. For one, she had lost all her baby fat, and her hair had grown out long and wavy.

_Watari must have faked her death_, I realized. _And he most certainly arranged Allie's adoption as well. But why?_

At that moment I heard a strange noise coming from the floor above. I recognized Allie's voice. I made my way up the plush staircase, following the sound of her voice right into the bathroom, which was unlocked. I was right; she was in the shower. And she was singing.

"When will myyyy reflection shoooow who I aaam insiiiiiide?"

The bathroom was completely filled with steam, but I could make out her shadowy figure from behind the shower curtains.

_Holy shit._

I immediately felt my pulse quicken. My face flushed. _What the hell? _This never happened when I was with Halle during her showers. I felt like a voyeur. I was just about to leave to wait for her outside when I heard her suddenly scream.

"ARGH!"

I jumped out of my skin. Had she seen me? I waited, but nothing happened. She probably just got soap in her eyes.

But then she spoke. "Mom? Is that you, Monica?"

Before I could react, Allie whipped open the curtains and saw me, frozen to the spot. Her hazel eyes widened in astonishment. Then she screamed.

"AHHHHHHHHHH! WHAT THE FUCK!"

* * *

**A/N: Hehehe. The plot will pick up pretty fast from the next chapter. I've been building up the suspense for long enough!**


	11. Fresh Start

**A/N: I do not own DN or Febreze.**

**Also, I'm sorry for any previously inconsistent spelling of certain words. I had my Microsoft Word set to English-Canadian instead of English-American.**

* * *

**Chapter 11: Fresh Start**

* * *

"AHHHHHHHHHHH! WHAT THE FUCK!" I shrieked at the top of my lungs. Fear and disgust flooded through me. I ducked back behind the shower curtains, my heart hammering.

_How - ? Why - ? _I quickly peeked out again. The scarred blond stared back at me, wearing a guilty expression. I would have laughed at his deer-in-headlights expression if it wasn't directed at _me. _I withdrew my head again.

"It's n-not what y-you think..." I heard Mello stammer.

"I'll deal with you later," I snarled from behind the curtains. "Just get the hell out!"

"Okay, okay! I'll be outside!" he gasped, to my immense relief. The sound of his retreating footsteps was followed by the bathroom door loudly slamming shut.

My entire body was trembling, and my mind was going into overdrive. _How did he get into the house? And why is he here?_ I rinsed the shampoo out of my hair at lightning speed, jumped out of the shower and scrubbed myself dry with a towel. I swiftly pulled my clothes on – a simple white t-shirt and grey sweat pants – as my eyes scanned the room for a possible weapon.

Mello had a gun. I had seen it poking out of his waistband, not so innocently. Although we had just met and exchanged numbers, he was still a stranger...and a _criminal_, most certainly an outlaw. I needed to protect myself in any way possible.

_This isn't good. This isn't good at all._

I rummaged through the cabinet, and pawed through the drawers. Q-tips, dental floss, combs, lotions...

_What does he want?_

My blood ran cold as I silently listed the possibilities. Matt's clothes? Or payback? Robbery, kidnap, torture, rape... Maybe he wanted to kill me, with my knowledge that he had been part of the Mafia.

_But he already had the opportunity, _I reasoned. _He could've shot you right there, while you were in the shower, clueless and defenceless. _But I couldn't let my guard down, not yet.

I checked underneath the sink. My gaze landed on a can of Febreze Air Effects. I grabbed it. And on the way out, I braced myself for the worst.

* * *

I tore out of the steamy bathroom, slamming the door behind me. I exhaled sharply, willing myself to calm down. After a minute, the pressure in the crotch of my pants lessened. I was glad. I was disturbed by my reaction. For heaven's sake, I was a successor to the greatest detective in history, not some horny, virginal teenager.

For a second, I could hear Matt's voice in my head. _Can't you be both? _it mocked, full of humour.

_No. _I forced the thought out of my head. There was no room, no time for distractions.

I made my way down the hall, my socked feet sinking into the soft white carpet with every step. It was an unusual, alien feeling. Without my heavy boots weighing me down, I felt as light as air.

I pushed open the first door I came across. It was the master bedroom. The walls were lined with shelves of books. I closed the door, and went to the next one. The door was already wide open. With one glance, I instantly knew it was Allie's room. I went in without hesitation.

It was a modest-sized bedroom. The walls were painted a very light green, and decorated with small posters of world landmarks: the Statue of Liberty, Big Ben, the Leaning Tower of Pisa, the Great Wall, the Eiffel Tower and Tokyo Tower. There was a twin bed in the left end of the room. I recognized Matt's clothes folded in a neat pile on top of the covers. To my right, there was a shelf, a dresser, a desk and a lime green office chair. Sitting on the desk was a black laptop, a cup of fuzzy pens, and a glass-framed picture of Allie and some guy.

I picked up the picture curiously. I glanced at the back, where there was a handwritten message. _"Our first date! XOXO," _I read aloud. It was dated November 26, 2008.

My eyebrows shot up. A year ago, from yesterday. I put it down gently, and then plopped myself into the office chair.

_I hope she isn't too angry, _I thought. But then again, I _did _break into her house...and I _was _caught practically spying on her in the shower.

I heard the bathroom door open from the hallway. I sat up straight. The next thing I knew, Allie stormed through the doorway, clutching a can of Febreze.

"Don't even think about using your gun," she hissed, "or I'll be taking you down with me."

Despite myself, I laughed. I pulled the Beretta 92 out of its holster and tossed it at the shocked brunette.

* * *

I froze as the gun bounced off the carpet and landed at my feet. Mello continued to lounge in my chair, looking extremely amused.

"Febreze? Is that the best you can do?" He smiled, sending chills down my spine. "I've been through worse – much worse," he added, stroking his scarred cheek.

"W-well..." I stuttered.

"Besides, it's not flammable."

_What? _I checked the ingredients. Sure enough, the label read: _odor__ eliminator, water, fragrance, non-flammable natural propellant, quality control ingredients._

Embarrassed, I dangled the can in front of his face. "Well, there's a warning. Contents under pressure," I told him.

He looked at me blankly and shrugged. I bent down and scooped up the discarded gun, cradling it carefully in both hands. Then I aimed it at him. Suddenly...

...the strangest sensation came over me.

"_I won't. See this? I just sharpened it this morning."_

"_Put that away, please."_

"_As soon as we discuss it properly like two normal, human beings."_

"_Normal? You're not normal at all. I wouldn't even call you human."_

That was the second time today. I blinked, and pushed the persistent memory out of my mind. I focused on Mello, who was still smiling at me.

"It's only carrying blanks," he said smugly.

"At this range, the wad can still hurt you," I declared. My hand shook. Mello looked surprised.

"How would you know?"

"That's none of your concern," I said, trying to sound threatening. The truth was, I saw it in a movie once. But he didn't need to know that.

"You can't hurt me, Allie. Put it back down." Mello said it so confidently and reassuringly, I couldn't help but nod. _Damn it._ I tossed the gun back onto the floor, and placed the air freshener on my dresser.

"Start talking," I ordered calmly.

I was itching to slap the hell out of him, but I winced inwardly at the thought. In some way, I sort of owed him for showing me mercy earlier. Plus I cringed at the idea of hitting his already-damaged face.

"I needed to see you," Mello replied simply.

"Why? And how did you get in?" I demanded, taken back.

He rolled his eyes. "I found the spare key. You should really find a better hiding place."

I looked at him incredulously. "No one's ever found it before."

"Well, let's just say I know the tricks of the trade," Mello said shortly, avoiding my burning gaze. At that moment, a loud buzzing noise sounded from downstairs. The tension in the room broke; our heads jerked towards the door.

"That's the oven," I muttered. "Dinner's ready." Remembering Mello's earlier hospitality at his apartment, I bit my lip. "Um..."

He looked at me questioningly.

"...care to join me?" I finished, the words slipping out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

Mello's lips parted.

* * *

"Okay," I said, pleased. I couldn't remember the last time I had real food. I hopped out of the chair and waited for Allie to lead the way. She looked flustered, as if she wanted to take back what she said.

I made it easier for her. "Allie, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for breaking into your house, and coming into the bathroom." She blushed at my words, even though I had downplayed it as well as I could.

I extended a gloved hand to her. "Let's clear the air and make a fresh start," I said, holding back a grin. I wanted to see if she caught that. She did. Allie unsuccessfully hid her own smile, and tentatively shook my hand.

"It's the least I can do," she sighed. "Let's go."

I followed her down the stairs, as she continued to mutter under her breath.

" – _weirdest thing – my life," _I managed to hear her say.

That's when it hit me, in a heart wrenching wave of guilt. In a matter of minutes, I was going to be turning her life completely upside down.

* * *

**A/N: Yep, Mello has a conscience now. **


	12. Subtract

**A/N: So**** far the story has been strict to the Death Note timeline. Again, this chapter contains excerpts taken from Volume 10.**

**Hitoshi Demegawa dies on November 28, 2009. Japan is 16 hours ahead of Los Angeles. Currently, my story takes place Friday, November 27, 2009 at 6:00 pm, so it is 10 in the morning**** THE NEXT DAY in Japan.**

* * *

**Chapter 12: Subtract**

* * *

Miles and miles away in Japan, a man smiled. He set aside the yellow envelope, which had been neatly postmarked _November 26th. _It had unexpectedly arrived in the mail this morning...along with his new destiny.

_Thank you__...God..._

The 27-year-old prosecutor fell to his knees and reverently raised the black notebook before him.

* * *

"Now where did I put my oven mitts?"

I was rummaging through the kitchen drawers. Mello brushed past me.

"Here...let me..."

I watched closely as he pulled the pan of lasagna out of oven, placing it on top of the stove. "Do you ever take those off?" I asked, pointing to his leather gloves.

"Only in the shower," he said, casting me a significant look. I pressed a hand to my cheek. I was still mortified by the whole incident. I couldn't be sure whether he actually saw anything or not. The room had been filled with steam...

"I only saw your silhouette," Mello said, as if reading my thoughts. "I promise."

"Why should I believe you?" I said, half-jokingly. I retrieved two plates from the cabinet, and busied myself with cutting and scooping out the lasagna.

"I always keep my promises," he replied flatly, a deadly expression settling on his features. "Don't ever doubt that. Alright?"

"Sure..." I gaped at him. I handed him a fork and his plate. He dug into the food immediately. I felt my jaw drop. He was eating at top speed, yet somehow, managed to keep his face clean and sauce-free.

"This is really good," he muttered between bites.

"Uh," I said. Mello finally looked up.

"What?"

"Do you want to come into the living room? I like watching the news during dinner," I told him. It was almost six o'clock now. He shrugged, and followed me into the next room.

I dropped onto the black leather couch, balancing my plate in one hand and grabbing the remote with the other. Mello flopped down beside me. I shifted away uncomfortably. I wasn't used to such _proximity_ with anyone of the opposite sex other than...Rick.

_It'll__ never happen again. _I shuddered as I recalled how Rick wanted even more "proximity" last night.

"I like your furniture," Mello murmured, running his hand up and down the leather couch. I couldn't help but stare. He was practically _molesting _it. I tore my gaze away.

"Thanks," I said. I pressed the 'on' button, and the LCD television flickered to life. I was surfing through the channels for his benefit when Mello suddenly grabbed my arm. I jumped at the contact, and pulled my arm away.

"What?" I yelped. Mello kept his eyes trained on the TV screen.

"Kira's Kingdom," he replied hoarsely.

I scoffed. "Trash television," I said viciously. "I want to watch CNN."

"No," Mello barked. "We need to see this!"

* * *

Several miles away downtown, the small handful of NPA officers ignored Matsuda as he jumped up excitedly. He looked around the hotel room expectantly.

"...oh, K-Kira's Kingdom's about to start," he exclaimed unabashedly, pointing at the six-screen panel television sitting at Light's work station.

The tacky theme song blared from the speakers, as the curtains parted to reveal Demegawa.

"I have been working day and night to spread the word of Kira so that more people may stand in support of Kira," the pudgy Sakura TV representative boomed from his makeshift throne.

"And behold...thanks to all of your support, our creation of "Kira's Kingdom," which is also the title of this program, is making good progress. I, Demegawa, am supervising the construction of this site." An image of an elaborate construction site filled the screen, followed by a shot of a large, stone statue. Demegawa stood before it in his fancy silk robes, waving majestically.

"Kira's Kingdom is made possible by donations starting at the million yen mark from people like you, who loathe evil. And once it is completed, we will greet Kira here in this chapel. It is here where we and all our soldiers will protect Kira, and in return Kira will protect us. Eventually, Kira's Kingdom is going to spread throughout the world to create a peaceful world protected by Kira's law and order. Please join me, Demegawa, for its creation!"

The camera zoomed in on the Japanese man's fat and sweaty face.

"Nationality, religion...those things are not important to us. Anybody who supports Kira and wants to create this kingdom is welcome...with a donation starting at a million yen..."

Matsuda felt his jaw drop. "It...it doesn't sound very much like Kira. It sounds kind of phony..."

Aizawa nodded, grunting. "Yeah, they're no different from any other dodgy organization..."

Unbeknownst to anyone, Light clenched his fists. _Damn Demegawa...since he's not getting any orders from Misa, he's taken things into his own hands. This is only going to push the people away. I should have killed him when he was blinded by all money and didn't do as he was ordered. I don't need Demegawa anymore...I have to think of a way to get in contact with Mikami as fast as I can._

* * *

Mello's face twisted into an ugly expression. He looked sick.

"Are you alright?" I asked, feeling a bit sick myself. _Kira's Kingdom, _I thought disgustedly. _What a load of bullshit. _

Mello turned to me. "Tell me, Allie..." He looked lost in thought.

"Tell you what?" I prodded.

On the TV, Demegawa was gesturing to a group of people who had been partially hidden in the shadows. They stepped out into the spotlight. "Now, let me introduce you to the executive members, who I handpicked myself! Together, we will – "

Mello fixed his bright blue-green eyes on me. "What do you think of Kira?"

I didn't get a chance to respond.

"URGH...AARGH!"

We both gasped as the _Kira's Kingdom_ executives, including Demegawa himself, dramatically crashed onto the floor, clutching at their chests and frothing from the lips. The air was filled with their desperate screams. The screen flickered and was immediately replaced by a brightly colored picture of smiling flowers. "_Please wait a moment."_

I felt bile rise in my throat. I had never seen anyone die before, especially not on live television. Mello grabbed the remote from me and turned the TV off.

"Kira? Kira is..." I whispered.

* * *

"Whoa, Demegawa and all the executives...!" Matsuda shouted.

"What?"

Ide gripped the edge of Light's chair. "Can it be that Kira's killed his own supporters...?"

"Maybe Kira killed Demegawa because he was over doing it?" Matsuda suggested.

Aizawa frowned. "But wasn't Kira giving direct orders to Demegawa?"

Light merely smirked. _It's Mikami...he understands Kira's thoughts, ideals, the things Kira needs and doesn't need...he's very useful...but that he was able to decide to kill all these people without my orders is..._

* * *

"...despicable."

Allie had turned white. She shoved her plate of food aside. "Kira is despicable," she repeated. She looked at me, waiting for my reaction.

"So you're against Kira." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes," she said quietly. "I hate what he's doing. It's not natural." She looked away. "Rick and I used to discuss Kira. He was a supporter. We used to fight about it a lot, actually. He thought I was an old-fashioned idiot. I accused him of being a coward."

"Your boyfriend?" I asked, thinking of the framed picture on her desk upstairs.

Allie grimaced. "As of today, not anymore."

_Interesting._

"What happened?" I arranged my features to look concerned. I set aside my own empty plate.

Allie gnawed at her lip, refusing to look at me. "He...broke up with me."

I struggled to find the right words. "Aww," I said lamely.

"Thanks," she mumbled. She stood up and grabbed the plates. "I'll go do the dishes now." She hurried out of the living room.

I knew I had to make my move soon. "So where are your parents?" I asked, stalking her into the kitchen.

"They're working late," she answered, squirting some detergent onto a sponge. "And yours?"

I was ready with my answer. "They died when I was five. I grew up in an orphanage – in England."

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that," she offered ruefully. She paused before continuing. "My biological parents died when I was twelve. I also grew up in England…but..." Her face fell, eyes downcast. She scrubbed a plate determinedly.

"Yes?" I pressed. _This is it._

_This is my chance._

"I don't remember any of it," she said somberly. "I don't even remember my real parents. There was a… car accident. They were killed. I survived, but got amnesia. Then the Robinsons adopted me. So here I am."

I let out a hiss. "I'm sorry, Allie…" I began. _How am I supposed to do this? _I ran a hand through my long hair agitatedly.

"…but there _was _no car accident." My words were met with a long silence. There was no going back now.

Allie dropped the plate with a loud clatter. She swung around to face me. "Huh?"

"It's not true…" I struggled to find the right words.

"Are you calling me a liar?" she said in a low voice.

"No, I'm not calling you a liar. I'm saying you don't know what happened."

"_Excuse me?" _She crossed her arms, her eyes narrowed to slits. "What the fuck are you talking about? How would you know?"

I couldn't restrain myself. I crossed the small distance between us and put my hands on her shoulders. She froze. "Alexandra," I said softly, looking her straight in the eye and willing her to believe me. "We grew up together. A long time ago."

She blinked. "T-that's not f-funny," she stammered.

"It's not a fucking joke." I gestured towards the family photo on the wall, the one of the Robinsons, their other daughter, and twelve-year-old Allie… _Alternative_. "That's you, and we grew up at Wammy's."

Allie looked like she'd been punched in the stomach. "Wammy's? As in…Quillsh Wammy?"

* * *

_Wammy'__s. _The magic word.

After everything that had happened today, nothing was impossible.

And now…

This odd, dodgy, golden-haired boy who I'd just met in the most bizarre circumstances was telling _me_ that my life was a lie. He was telling me that he knew me.

It was completely ridiculous.

Yet when he said _Wammy's, _it was as if a dam had been broken.

_I know that name__._ Last summer, I had been organizing Mr. Robinson's files at the library when I found the newspaper clippings. Among them was an obituary dated November 2004 – featuring a man named Quillsh Wammy.

I had asked my adoptive parents about the articles. The Robinsons gave me extremely vague answers, which piqued my curiosity even more. Instead, I turned to Amanda, my adoptive sister, when she came back from Harvard on one of her rare visits home…

"_I __remember him," my adoptive sister said, handing me back the clippings. "He's the one who arranged your adoption."_

"_He did? I never knew that. Why would Monica and John hide this from me?"_

"_Don't tell Mom or Dad I told you this, Allie…" Amanda looked nervous._

"_I won't! I promise!"_

"_Alright. You weren't supposed to know about him. No one was."_

"_What? Why?" I was shocked._

"_I dunno. But when you arrived here to recover from the accident, Mr. Wammy stayed by your side until you woke up from your coma. He told all of us to make sure you wouldn't go searching for him later."_

_I pondered the revelation quietly. __According to the article, he was a famous inventor. Maybe he wanted to remain anonymous and live in peace._

"_Do you think he was a family friend?" Amanda suggested._

"_I wouldn't know…I don't even have pictures of my own parents…" _

…

My eyes began to water of their own accord. I blinked the potential tears away.

"I'm sorry," Mello said quietly.

"I-I don't even know w-what to believe," I replied. I shook my head violently. "What are you saying?"

"You never knew your parents. You grew up at Wammy's. In fact, you were the first child to be taken in at Wammy's after L himself," he continued.

"L? You don't mean – "

"The legendary detective, L. The one who was killed by Kira!" For a moment he looked murderous.

_What? What's going on? L? _My head was spinning. Plates forgotten, I started to pace around the kitchen. "None of this makes any sense!" I croaked.

"It will, once I bring you to New York," Mello paused. His lips twitched. "To see Near."

I clenched my fists. "I'm not going anywhere! This is insane!" Mello stood rooted to the spot, silent as he watched me and my world fall apart.

_This is impossible. This isn't happening. It's just some crazy, random figment of my imagination._

It was too much to handle. Just as I was about to sink to the floor, I heard the audible _click _of the key turning in the lock of the front door.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks to all you awesome reviewers! I'm very excited and happy about the reception so far. I will update within 3 days, I've got a job interview tomorrow!**


	13. An Empty Casket

**A/N: Thanks to eternalsnowfox and RAINBOW RANT for wishing me good luck! My interview went well, thanks! **

**This chapter contains sensitive matters, a lot of history/family history and background details. I tried to make it as realistic as possible. It may not be the most exciting read, but I can assure you it is very important.**

**The flashback will start with "..." and italics, the rest in regular font. The flashback will end with italics and another "...". Hope it's not too confusing – I didn't want to make the whole thing italics (it's hard on the eyes).**

* * *

**Chapter 13: An Empty Casket**

* * *

_Click._

"Honey? We're home!"

My heart lurched at the sound of the adults' voices. The tension in the room increased tenfold. Allie looked dazed.

"Those are my parents," she mumbled. I was poised to make a break for it, but decided against it when I saw how distraught she looked. _I can't leave her now._

"Well...are you going to introduce me?"

Allie cast a worried glance at my questionable attire. "I guess I don't have a choice. At least you don't have the gun on you," she sighed. "This is going to be so awkward."

I couldn't help but agree.

"Mom, Dad, I'm in the kitchen," she called. Allie sounded as if she was seconds away from screaming at her parents. They, however, didn't pick up on this.

The Robinsons appeared at the entrance of the kitchen, looking exhausted but happy. Both of them looked to be in their mid-fifties, and were dressed in matching wool sweaters and corduroy slacks. "We found the thief," Mrs. Robinson announced. "Thieves, to be exa – "

The woman froze when she saw me. Her husband did the same.

"Um, Mom? Dad? This is Melvin. He's a friend of mine," Allie said tightly. "Melvin, these are my parents, Monica and John."

_Melvin?__ Okay then._

I stepped forward. "Hi, Mr and Mrs Robinson. It's nice to meet you," I said as politely as I could, and extended my hand. Allie gave me a tiny nod of approval.

I forced a smile. So far, it was going smoother than I'd expected.

What I didn't expect was for Monica Robinson to suddenly clutch at her husband's arm. They were both looking at my face in horror. Something flickered in their eyes.

_Anger? Disgust? Is my face that deformed? _I automatically touched my scar defensively.

Allie jumped in. "Monica, John. I invited him for dinner and we were just talking...what's wrong?"

Her adoptive mother had collapsed into the nearest chair.

* * *

Fifty-five-year-old Monica Robinson was trying her hardest not to break into tears.

_This can't be happening. They trusted us to give her a normal life!_

Several years after the birth of their daughter Amanda, they decided to try for another child. After years and years of fertility treatments and family planning, they simply gave up. The doctor diagnosed that John had become infertile, and that was that.

All they wanted was a younger sibling for Amanda, another child to take care of. So, they decided to look into adoption. However, they only faced repeated rejections, losing out to much younger couples. Who were two aspiring librarians to compete with lawyers, doctors and accountants at the peak of their careers?

The one day, five to six years ago, it was as if all their prayers had been answered...

...

_It was mid- January, and Amanda had been accepted to UCLA, Yale, Princeton, Brown, and Oxford. They had all offered her full scholarships, which made the decision even harder. _

_The Robinson family decided to fly to Oxford for the weekend so that Amanda could attend a campus tour of Oxford University. Meanwhile, Monica and her husband decided to visit Winchester Cathedral, one of the largest cathedrals in England._

_On their way to the Cathedral, they passed a small Gothic church that looked like all the rest, except for one major detail: the funeral..._

"John, let's go pay our respects," Monica suggested, looking sympathetically at the mourning crowd.

Her husband looked disturbed. "I've never been to a stranger's funeral before...and besides, look...they're all children..."

Monica gave a start. John was right. All of the mourners were small kids, pre-teens and teens. There were only, she counted, three adults.

"Pull over," she instructed, and John obliged resignedly, parking at the entrance of the gates. Monica knew her husband would understand. They got out of their rental car, and entered the grounds. As they approached the procession in a cautious and respectful manner, the three adults – all of them men – noticed this and nodded, acknowledging their presence.

And then they started to walk towards them.

"Let's go now," John whispered. "It looks like we're not welcome here."

"What are you talking about? They look friendly to me," Monica insisted.

As the men got closer, she noticed that two of them were very old, appearing to be in their mid-sixties. One was wearing a trench coat, and the other a suit. The third man looked to be in his mid-twenties, and was curiously pale. His raven hair stood out in stark contrast with the grey hair of his companions.

"Why are you here?" It was the dark-haired man who had spoken.

John fumbled for an appropriate answer. "My wife...we...wanted to express our condolences. I'm John Robinson, and this is my wife, Monica. We're sorry for your loss."

Monica merely watched the mourning children with a deep yearning in her heart.

"Do you like children?"

She gaped at the young man, embarrassed by her obvious desire and surprised by his forwardness. "Yes," she admitted. "I'm sorry for intruding here..."

"Don't be sorry. In fact, we'd like to speak to you in private."

There had been something commanding yet tender about his tone that made the Robinsons forget all about their sightseeing plans. Intrigued, they followed the men into the small church, while the children remained mourning outside at their friend's grave.

The elderly man in the trench coat spoke first. "My name is Quillsh Wammy."

"I'm Roger Ruvie," said the other man.

"And I am L," the youngest man murmured.

The couple was stunned. "L? The detective?"

"Ah, so you know of me."

"We're from Los Angeles. You just finished working with the FBI to catch some psycho killer. We heard all about it, it was all over the news!"

"My involvement is only a rumour. But it is true." L fixed them with his dark eyes. "The man we arrested attacked a young girl at our orphanage, Wammy's House. His name was Backup. Her name was Alternative."

"What kind of names are those?" John interrupted without thinking. Then he blushed.

"They are aliases," the detective said calmly. "Everyone at the orphanage has one."

So that explained all the children, Monica thought. And they must be mourning this girl...Alternative...

Without thinking, she blurted out, "Orphanage? Can we adopt from there?"

John nudged her reproachfully. "Monica! Now is not the time."

L's face lit up. "On the contrary," he declared. "We'd like to give you an offer you can't refuse."

John was silent, unsure of how to reply. On the other hand, Monica took the bait.

"Please, tell me about it. I'd like to hear what you have to say."

"Very well." And the detective proceeded to tell them about Wammy's House, how orphaned children with exceptional intelligence and skills were taken in to be raised to become his possible successors. John and Monica listened with amazement.

"This is all very strange," Monica said, confused. "What do you want us to do?" Her heart was thumping wildly.

Quillsh Wammy stepped forward. "We would like you to adopt Alexandra."

"Who?" John asked, baffled.

"_Alternative," _L clarified.

"I'm afraid I don't understand. Wasn't she just killed? Isn't this her funeral?" Monica said slowly.

"No, she was not killed. She was merely attacked by Backup. After he died in jail, Alternative attempted suicide by jumping off the Itchen Bridge. She had always felt drawn to that bridge, as she shares the name of the one who opened it."

"Princess Alexandra of Kent!" John exclaimed.

Roger Ruvie coughed. "That's correct."

There was a long, uncomfortable silence. Monica finally asked, "Why are you faking her death? Where is she now? What's going on?"

L's eyes clouded over. He wordlessly handed her a slip of paper, which she read, mouthing the words in mounting horror.

_**I can't do this anymore.**_

"It's my fault," L said quietly. "She was first in line to succeed my title as the world's greatest detective. The pressure was too great for her. But now...she's been given a second chance at life."

It was Roger's turn to explain. "When we retrieved her from the river, she was unconscious. She hadn't drowned, as she was too light to sink to the bottom. However, there was enough trauma from the fall to send her into a coma."

The Robinsons gasped.

"According to our examinations, there's a 1% chance she will be brain-damaged. There's a 98% chance that she will wake up with amnesia," L stated.

Monica was almost too afraid to ask. "And what's the other 1%?"

L frowned. "That she'll wake up, retaining all her memories of her life as _A, _and live the rest of her life in misery and depression."

The detective paused, letting it all sink in.

"You want _us _to adopt her, to give her this second chance at life?" Monica whispered. "But we're total strangers. As we said, we're not from around here, we're from L.A."

"The farther away she is from this place, the better. Watari," L gestured towards Quillsh Wammy, "will arrange the adoption. He will deal with the papers, legalities, Alexandra's passport and citizenship. He will travel back to Los Angeles with you and the girl, and he will stay with you until she wakes up. We will also set you up with funds from my fortune."

John raised a hand. "Whoa, wait a minute." The men looked at him in surprise.

"We won't need any money. We have more than enough to raise her."

Monica threw her arms around her husband gratefully. "Oh, John!"

"I'm glad to hear that. Also, there are several conditions. First, Alexandra should never find out where she came from, or who she was. When she wakes up from the coma, please inform her that her parents were killed in a car accident, which she survived. This is the simplest and most believable story. She must not be told that she tried to kill herself. Second, you must look to it that she grows up to have a normal, healthy life. We trust you."

The last part struck a chord with her. "You're already trusting us? But why?" Monica inquired.

"Because I trust Watari's instincts," L said simply.

When they left the church, the dazed couple watched the mourning children from a distance. Knowing now that the burial casket was empty, Monica felt incredibly at peace...and significant.

_We have been given an important task, _she realized. _And I'll do all I can to protect this girl. She is my daughter now._

The three men followed the Robinsons to their car.

"I will drive you to our medical facilities, where we have been keeping and hiding Alexandra from her friends. Is this alright?" Quillsh asked. Monica nodded and John handed the other man the car key.

Before they entered the car, Monica stopped. Something peculiar had caught her eye.

The large group of children had drifted away from the grave and into the church building, perhaps to find a place to sit. Only three remained at the tombstone, three boys.

Two of the boys, a blond and a redhead, were dressed entirely in black, while the third was wearing white. This would not have fazed her if it hadn't been for his shock of matching white hair.

All three were shaking in grief.

"Who are they?" Monica asked curiously. L followed her gaze.

"They are my next three successors. Near, Mello, and Matt." He pointed each one out.

The boy nicknamed Near had begun to wail openly. "_Ax!" _The blond called Mello began to cry, and the redhead, Matt, quietly consoled his two friends.

"It's time to go," Quillsh Wammy told them gently. So off they went.

_Amanda was spared of the gruesome details, and was told only that the girl they were adopting was coming to America to recover. She accepted this without question. Quillsh Wammy immediately arranged for a private jet to fly the family straight back to Los Angeles. It was all done very secretively, as if they did not want anyone to know of their actions. _

_It was only a few months after Alexandra woke up, sans memories, when "L" publicly denounced and waged war against the mass murderer known as "Kira". _

_Several months after that, Quillsh Wammy, famous inventor and philanthropist, was announced dead at the age of seventy-one. He had died of a heart attack. The Robinsons were unable to attend his funeral, as it would have alerted their adopted daughter._

_Monica and John Robinson counted their blessings, and thanked the heavens that Alexandra was safe, truly safe from her previous fate. Allie, formerly __**A**__, would grow up to have a normal life._

_..._

Now, tonight, five years later, the past had finally caught up to them. Somehow, Mello had found their daughter. Monica was shaking from head to toe. She had recognized him from the moment she laid her eyes on his golden bob, and slim length.

"Monica, John. I invited him for dinner and we were just talking...what's wrong?"

Monica didn't reply.

"Mom, what's wrong?" Allie repeated.

"Oh it's nothing...I was just surprised. I'm sorry honey." Monica racked her brain. "So what were you and Mello talking about?"

She realized her slipup as soon as the words were out of her mouth.

"Monica!" her husband gasped.

The leather-clad blond narrowed his eyes. "...the hell?"

Allie's hand flew to her mouth.

The damage was done.


	14. Next Stop, New York

**Disclaimer: It goes without saying that I don't own Death Note. Just Allie, who's technically not completely mine now that you know she's **_**A. **_

* * *

**Chapter 14: Next Stop, New York **

* * *

I made a strangled noise, my adoptive father gasped, and Mello swore.

"...you called me _Mello_," he noted matter-of-factly.

"I- I..." my adoptive mother stammered. "I mean..."

I cut her off. "Save it," I said scathingly, lacing my words with as much venom as I could muster. "You've already implicated yourself."

"Allie, we can explain!" John exclaimed desperately.

"If you know Mello, you must also know about Wammy's House. Isn't that right?" I demanded. There was a fleeting second where I mentally implored him to lie.

John Robinson hung his head. "Yes," he whispered. "There's no point in denying it now. You were raised there. We adopted you from that orphanage." Monica let out a little sob at her husband's words.

Mello's eyes sparked with triumph as he looked at me. _You see?_

"Tell me everything," I said a little breathlessly. My heart was aching again, for the second time that day. But I didn't care at the moment. "Tell me everything you know! Tell me why you lied to me!"

"Hold on," Mello broke in. I glared at him, but he ignored me and addressed the Robinsons instead. "Alternative..._Alexandra..._was supposed to be dead. How was she alive this whole time?"

"No!" Monica shrieked, but it was too late.

Time stopped.

"I'm s-supposed to be...d-_dead_?" I spluttered, feeling the blood drain out of my face.

Monica staggered off her chair and threw herself at Mello. "How could you? Get out of my house!" she screamed as she attempted to claw at him. The blond merely jumped back in alarm, while John grabbed a hold of his hysterical wife.

"Mello, please! What happened to me?" I cut in before I could lose my nerve.

"Please, son, don't say a word," John pleaded.

Mello looked back and forth between us. "I'll tell you later, Allie." I nodded, shaken.

"No, you will not!"

My adoptive mother was having a complete meltdown right before my eyes. I guiltily turned away from the heartbreaking sight.

"_Get out of my house! Get out, now!"_

"You know what, Mello?" I was breathing fast. "I've decided to take you up on your offer after all. Take me to New York with you. I can see I won't be getting any answers here."

"Why? What's in New York?" my adoptive father asked hopelessly. He gawked at us, his face wrinkled with confusion and despair.

"Apparently, someone named Near," I informed him coolly. John and Monica's eyes widened with recognition, once again.

_So they know him too._

"Near heads the SPK. Currently, they're still in New York," Mello added.

"The SPK?" The name sounded familiar to me.

"The Special Provision for Kira."

The kitchen went silent at his words, at the mention of _Kira_. My heart was racing at an impossible speed. _The Special Provision for...Kira? What do they have to do with any of this?_

I answered my own question, connecting the fragments together. _Wammy's House, L the detective, L versus Kira...Kira..._

John spoke haltingly. "Excuse me, but wasn't this SPK group disbanded by Vice President George Psyeruth just last week?"

"That's right," I said, realizing where I'd heard the name. "I watched his press conference."

"It was a trick to bait Kira." Mello whipped out his cell phone. "I'm going to call Matt now, Allie. Pack your bags. We're hitting New York. Tonight."

"Oh God, no! No! Please Allie, don't go," Monica begged.

John seized me by the shoulders. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into, Alexandra!"

But I'd already made up my mind.

I shrugged off John's firm grip, pushed past my adoptive parents and dashed for the stairs. A quick glance over my shoulders told me that Mello was close on my heels, speaking fast into his phone.

"Alexandra!"

Monica and John were scrambling up the stairs, trailing behind Mello. "Wait! Be reasonable! You can't just leave like this!" they shouted frantically.

I hurried into my bedroom, and Mello followed suit. I shut the door behind him and locked it. Then I grabbed my office chair and jammed it up against the door knob, just to be safe.

"_Allie! Open this door immediately!"_ The knob jiggled furiously.

"Matt's on his way," Mello said curtly. He picked his gun up off the floor, where we had left it earlier. He shoved it into his waistband. That was when I noticed, for the first time, the small silver crucifix that dangled from the grip.

He caught me looking at it. "What?"

"Ehh...how are you getting that through airport security?" I improvised as I yanked open my closet door.

"I have my ways. No time to explain," Mello said briskly.

* * *

I paced around the room, watching Allie pack her clothes into a green duffel bag. I noticed that she had also tossed in Matt's shirt and pants. Her parents were still pounding away at the door and calling her name.

"How long will we be gone for?" Allie suddenly asked, looking anxious.

"Just the weekend," I assured her hastily, in case she developed second thoughts. To my relief, she didn't protest.

"That's good. I don't want to miss school or anything..." she trailed off. She looked embarrassed. "Not that it matters anymore."

"We'll be back before Monday. Don't forget your passport, ID, and your phone," I ordered.

"What about money?"

"No need. I have cash," I replied. "I'll pay for your ticket."

One minute later, Allie zipped up her bag in a final manner. I was impressed. She took less time to pack than it took my former Mafia associates whenever the LAPD came sniffing around at our hideouts.

"Okay, let's go," she said firmly. She looked determined, despite the fact her parents were on the other side of the door yelling themselves hoarse.

"_You're not going anywhere, Allie!"_

"_There's no way in hell we're letting you walk out the front door with that boy!"_

"_We'll stay here all night if we have to!"_

"That could be a problem." I frowned, and reached for my gun.

Allie saw this, crying out, "No!"

I gnashed my teeth impatiently. "Look, I'm not going to hurt them. You already know it's a blank."

"It doesn't matter! You'll traumatize them!"

I groaned in frustration. "Fine. There's only one other way." I strolled over to the window and wrenched it open. I looked down; Allie's bedroom was right above the backyard. There was a flowerbed, a pool and a vegetable patch.

"What are you doing?"

I snatched Allie's duffel bag and heaved it out the window. "Mello! What the hell!" We watched as the bag landed on the flowers with a quiet _thump_.

"You're next."

In the blink of an eye, I scooped up the petite brunette. I was just about to toss her feet-first out the window when her fist slammed into my jaw.

"Fuck!" we both swore at the same time.

Allie cast me a scandalized look. "Let me down! I'll jump out myself," she whispered. I obliged and she slithered out of my arms. She stuck her head out the window, placing her right foot on the ledge, and then her left.

Then, looking down, she froze in her crouched position.

It didn't take a genius – though I was one, myself – to figure out the problem.

"Just close your eyes, and don't look at the pool. Aim for the flowers," I told her gently.

Allie closed her eyes and sprung off the ledge. Just in time, too. As she landed safely on the flowerbed, on top of her duffel bag, her bedroom door suddenly crashed open behind me.

I whirled around to see the office chair roll across the room. John Robinson stood in the doorway clutching a key, which I assumed to be the master key or a spare.

"Where's Allie?" Their eyes scanned the room frantically.

My hand drifted subconsciously to my gun. _No, Allie doesn't want me to scare them. _Instead, I faced her parents, looking at them stonily.

"She's gone," I said.

Before they could react, I flung myself out of the window. I landed nimbly on my socked feet. Allie had already picked herself up. Her bag was slung over her shoulder.

"_Allie! Mello!" _

We both jerked our heads up at the sound of our names. The Robinsons had poked their heads out of Allie's bedroom window. Their faces were wearing twin expressions of shock and pain.

"_We're coming down!" _They withdrew their heads.

"Come on, Allie. It's time to go."

We ran out of the backyard, through the gates. I immediately spotted the cherry red 1970 Chevrolet Camaro SS waiting by the curb. Matt was leaning against his car and fiddling with his Nintendo DS, smoking up a storm as usual. Relief flooded through me. He was on time, just as I'd asked. He tossed his cigarette aside when we burst into view.

I skidded to a stop. "Matt, let's get going."

Allie stood behind me. "Hi again," she greeted Matt shyly.

"Glad to have you back."

Matt winked at us knowingly before jumping into the car. This time, Allie scrambled into the backseat. I slid into the passenger seat next to Matt, my rightful spot.

"Go!"

Matt revved the engine and before we knew it, we were off. I glanced back. Allie's adoptive parents had rushed through the front door, waving their arms hysterically. The sound of the car drowned out the noise of their yelling. I reverted my gaze and turned towards the front.

We were finally on our way to LAX.

I peered into the rear-view mirror. Allie was flushed with excitement. Her recently washed hair was in tangles and there was a smudge of dirt on her cheek. But otherwise, she looked fine.

"Are you okay?" I asked, keeping my eyes on the mirror. She looked up, and our eyes met.

"I don't know," she admitted. She looked ready to burst.

"Just spit it out. What do you want to know?"

Allie sighed. "That's the problem...I don't know where to begin."

We were approaching a yellow traffic light. Matt gunned right through it. "I'll start. First, tell us what you know about that scratch down your front."

Allie furrowed her brow at Matt's question. "I got it from the accident...but of course, now I know that's not true."

"Nope." Matt glanced sideways at me. I could clearly read his expression. _You tell her._

I reached for the box of Caramilks that Matt brought along with my jacket and extra pair of boots, which I had gratefully pulled on the moment I got into the car. I thought longingly of the ones I had left behind in Allie's house. I knew I shouldn't have taken them off.

I handed her a bar, and she accepted it. "Sit tight, it's a long story. I won't be sugar-coating it, either. Are you ready?"

"I'm ready."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, we arrived at Los Angeles International Airport. Matt drove around, looking for a parking spot. The car had grown significantly silent.

Mello had just finished telling me the story – _my _story.

I should've been horrified, disgusted, sick to my stomach. But I was merely..._fascinated._

"_You were known as Alternative, or A, at Wammy's House. You were first in line to succeed L as the world's greatest detective."_

Me, a detective? The thought was unfathomable. I was no genius. I was just an average student.

"_There was another who was to succeed L. His alias was B, Backup, or Beyond Birthday. He liked you...a little too much. And one day... on Christmas Eve..."_

I was almost too afraid to ask. But I had to know.

"_No, but he tried to. By the time Near and I got to him, he had slashed your stomach open."_

That explained today's recurring flashbacks...the threatening, silky voice, the one that wouldn't leave me alone no matter how much I pleaded...

"_He fled the country, all the way to Los Angeles. L caught him, and Kira killed him."_

And what happened to me?

"_You became depressed, and the night Beyond was killed, you...you..."_

What? What did I do?

"..._you jumped off the Itchen Bridge. You left a suicide note. We were all told you drowned. We even held a funeral for you."_

But I survived. I'm...alive.

"_They must've faked your death. With no recollection of your time and training at Wammy's, you had a chance at a whole new life."_

Not being able to remember two-thirds of my life hasn't been much of a life. Do you know anything about my real parents?

"_No, I'm sorry. All I know is that you were handpicked by L himself at the age of five. Before that, you were at an ordinary orphanage."_

Did I have...friends?

"_You were best friends with Near. When you died, we were next in line. Matt was third."_

So why did you join the Mafia?

"_That's another story."_

My mind was whirling. I had never been so overwhelmed. I wanted to cry out with sheer emotion, but I didn't know which one. And most importantly... somewhere, deep down, I knew I had, by some incredibly bizarre twist of fate, finally found my place in the world.

_Next stop, New York._

* * *

Matt stopped the car, finally settling for a parking space near the underground elevator. I stepped out, tugging on my red, fur-lined jacket. With the chocolate safely tucked under one arm, I opened the back door for Allie.

She got out, gripping her duffel bag with one hand. She was wearing a dazed, almost euphoric expression on her face. I was delighted at how well Allie had handled the truth.

She was really something.

I gleefully snapped off a square of chocolate, swirling the caramel around with my tongue. This was going to be interesting. _Really interesting._

_Next stop, New York._


	15. Pillow Talk

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death No****te or Angels & Demons. This chapter contains a few quotes.**

**Random note: Today I watched "Death Note Relight/Rewrite 1: Visions of a God" (with that infamous cemetery scene!...but really, the Yotsuba deaths were TOTALLY messed up with continuity errors), and "Relight 2: Successors" on YouTube. **

* * *

**Chapter 15: ****Pillow Talk**

* * *

Mello and I half-walked, half-ran through the terminal. Matt was lagging behind us, completely absorbed in his game console. I noticed people shooting us strange, suspicious looks – at Mello in particular. He ignored them, looking intently ahead.

I was trying to look as calm and collected as possible, like I was merely going on a small trip rather than running away with a rogue bounty hunter and his partner...who were, apparently, also my long-lost acquaintances.

"We can probably catch a red-eye and be there by four A.M.," Mello informed us. I hastened my pace, shifting my duffel bag to my other hand.

"How long is the flight?"

"About five, six hours."

"Damn those time zone changes."

It wasn't long before we were standing in line at the ticket counter. There was a couple in front of us. I watched in dismay as they cuddled while the ticket agent processed their baggage.

_That was me__ twenty-four hours ago, _I thought with a pang. _In love, without a care in the world._

But then I felt a smile tug at the corner of my mouth.

_What would Rick think if he saw me now?_

"PDA. Huhhh," I heard Matt mutter under his breath. Finally, the couple left the counter and ambled away with their tickets. The three of us moved forward. Matt's nose was still buried in his game.

"Good evening, how may I help you?" The ticket agent plastered on a smile_. _

Mello glanced back at me. "Do you want to travel first-class, business or coach?"

I shrugged, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "I don't know...business?" I mumbled. I didn't know the difference. I literally could not remember the last time I was on a plane.

"Two business-class tickets to New York, please." Mello pulled out a giant wad of cash from his jacket and handed it to the woman. Her eyes widened with disbelief. "Keep the change."

My jaw dropped. Being in the Mafia must've paid really well.

"Oh, uh, sir, I don't think – "

"Hold on," I objected, puzzled. "Don't you mean three tickets?"

"I'm not going with you guys," Matt responded easily.

"Why not?" I asked, taken aback.

"I have to stay here and keep an eye on a certain friend of yours," the goggled redhead drawled. For one wild moment, I thought he'd meant my parents. But then I remembered the run-down apartment that I had been in earlier. The large window, the drawn blinds, the cameras, tripods, laptops, wires...

They'd been spying on someone.

_A friend of mine? _The hairs at the back of my neck prickled. "Who...?"

My question went unanswered. Mello waved the two tickets in my face. "Let's go. The flight's at eight."

I decided to keep quiet. I was sure it would be revealed to me in time.

"That was fast," Matt commented as we walked away from the counter. I stole a peek at the ticket agent, who was still counting the roll of bills. Her face was shiny with sweat.

"I think you scared her, Mello."

Mello made a noise in his throat. "I can't help it."

We walked in silence. This time, I was the one trailing slightly behind. I had only been on a plane once before in my entire life, and that was when I had been unconscious. My heart was hammering in my own ears. The idea of being _so high up…_

After several minutes of trawling through the maze-like corridors of the terminal, we arrived at our designated checkpoint. Two guards were stationed at the doors beyond the security rope, where a metal detector and a conveyor belt stood waiting.

"Well, this is it," Matt announced unnecessarily. He tucked his DS into his pockets.

"Oh, wait. Before I forget, these are yours...thanks…" I unzipped my duffel bag and pulled out his borrowed clothes. Matt plucked them out of my hands, and to my surprise, he pouted.

"Now I don't have an excuse to call you," he joked. "No problem, though." I smiled, warming to the redhead.

Mello was patting down his leather pants. He handed me his box of chocolate bars. "Can I put these in there?"

"Sure…" I tossed it into my bag before zipping it back up.

"Mello."

Matt had grabbed Mello by the shoulders.

"Matt...?"

Matt leaned in and whispered into the blond's ear. I watched them curiously. Mello turned a bright pink, and he pulled away, coughing loudly.

"_Flight __AAL22 to New York City departs in fifteen minutes. Flight AAL22 departs in fifteen minutes." _

Matt gave Mello a shove. "Go! Don't miss me too much."

I gave him a little wave, and stepped past the security rope with Mello by my side.

* * *

"Passport and ticket, please."

"Carrying any liquids on you?"

"Take off your coat and shoes please, and walk through the detector."

The male guard – Tom, according to his nametag – had immediately descended on me. I could see it in his eyes. He was alarmed by my appearance.

Meanwhile, the female guard – _Rachel – _was busying herself with Allie's bag. "Is this the only package?" she asked crisply. Allie nodded and looked at me nervously, and her eyes drifted down to my own hidden _package_.

I complied and yanked off my combat boots, placing them on the conveyor belt. My jacket quickly followed, along with my gloves. This was routine to me, but I felt awfully exposed. Out of habit, I held my breath as I sauntered through the metal detectors.

They remained silent.

Allie's eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets.

Once again, the Beretta 92 strapped to my hip remained undiscovered.

_Good job, Matt__. As usual... _

Matt was twenty feet away, standing behind the checkpoint rope. He had taken out his Nintendo DS again_._ However, he wasn't looking at the screen. Instead, he was pointing it, discreetly, towards the metal detectors. I smirked; his technical wizardry sure came in handy. Our eyes met; I gave him the tiniest of smiles. Matt gave me a thumbs up, and then wandered off.

Then it was Allie's turn. She passed through without a problem. The guards waved us off after I finished redressing.

"Next!"

Allie and I strolled through the doors, entering the slightly sloping passage.

"So," Allie whispered once we were out of earshot. "How did you do that?"

"Matt's Nintendo is a _very _customized," I answered cryptically.

"Eh?"

I looked around conspiratorially. "He developed a program to interfere with the detectors' frequencies."

Allie raised her brow. "Impressive. He's a hacker?"

"One of the best. He was a Wammy boy, after all."

We were just seconds from boarding the plane when Allie came to a complete stop and turned to me with an odd expression. My heart sank. _Don't tell me she's getting cold feet now._

I pried the green duffel bag out of her hand, in case she tried to run off. Allie looked at me, baffled.

"This is technically my first time flying," she confessed. _Oh._

"It'll be fine…trust me," I assured her uncomfortably. I've never had to ask anyone to _trust _me before. I didn't trust anyone, myself. After all, I was a hardened criminal…a thief, a kidnapper, a murderer. Before all that, the only person I had ever trusted, idolized, adored… was L.

And he had betrayed me by dying. He promised us he would bring Kira down, but he didn't.

_Don't blame him. It's not his fault._ But it was because of him, and Near, that I joined the Mafia in the first place.

"Trust me, alright?" I asked, wondering if Allie was aware of exactly how much that meant.

She merely nodded.

* * *

A flight attendant was waiting at the end of the passage. She was long-legged, and gorgeous enough to be a model. She greeted us and smiled, but not before I caught her wrinkling her nose at my outfit. I was still wearing my grey sweat pants from home, and a pair of really old sneakers that I had thrown on while packing. I flushed with embarrassment.

The attendant fluttered her long, dark lashes at Mello. I guess she liked the dangerous, bad-boy type. I snuck a glance at him. He didn't seem to notice the attention he was getting.

_Rick, zero. Mello, one__, _I involuntarily thought. Then I mentally slapped my forehead. _Where did that come from?_

We showed her our tickets and she ushered us down the aisle to our seats. They were window seats, I noted with dread.

"Anything I could assist you with?" the attendant simpered, hovering behind us. "Do you need help with that?" she said, pointing to my duffel bag, which Mello was still carrying.

"No," Mello said. "That'll be all."

We thanked her, and she left to tend to the other passengers. Mello heaved my bag into the compartment above the seats.

"Thanks," I said gratefully.

He grunted, and plopped down into the seat right next to the window. "I call the window seat."

I laughed uneasily, and sat down beside him, buckling myself in. We waited quietly for the pilot to announce takeoff.

* * *

"_Good evening everyone, I'm Paul, your pilot for the night.__ Please fasten your seatbelts. We are preparing for takeoff. I repeat, please fasten your seatbelts. We are preparing for takeoff. Thank you for your co-operation."_

Before long, the plane was rumbling below, above, all around us. I dug into my pockets and pulled out my half eaten Caramilk bar. I greedily bit into it. Takeoffs always made me hungry.

Beside me, Allie gave a little squeak.

I started, and noticed that she was gripping the armrests. Her knuckles had turned white.

"You're doing fine," I said to her in a low voice.

"What if I throw up?"

I instinctively inched away. I reached underneath the seats and pulled out a barf bag. I promptly dropped it in Allie's lap. "Use that."

The plane suddenly tilted back, and the rumbling from the runway ceased. We were finally in the air. I glanced to my left, out the window. The sky was already a velvety black, as was the mass of buildings below us. I watched as we soared over the fiery, twinkling lights of Los Angeles.

I impulsively placed my gloved hand on top of Allie's. I felt her grip on the armrest soften as she leaned over me to peer out the window as well.

"That's amazing..." she murmured. "Maybe I'll take the window seat next time." After a while, she gently withdrew her hand from mine.

The first two hours were uneventful. The plane was playing the movie, _Angels and Demons. _Allie was watching it with extreme interest. I rolled my eyes at every cheesy line, at every hackneyed scene. But there was one in particular…

"_My mind tells me I will never understand God. "_

"_And your heart?" _

"_Tells me I'm not meant to. Faith is a gift that I have yet to receive."_

I gnawed at my inner cheeks. In reality, traditional religion had become a trivial matter, a thing of the past. The world had been divided simply into pro and anti-Kira. _In this dark age, Kira has been accepted as a righteous god by much of the world._

I angrily gritted my teeth at the idea. _Your time's almost up, Kira. _

After the movie finished, Allie started to shift around restlessly.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm a bit tired. But I can't seem to fall asleep…one pillow isn't enough." Allie looked exhausted.

"Do you want mine?"

"No thanks." She looked thoughtful. "I meant to ask you earlier… who are you and Matt spying on? Does it have something to do with Kira?"

"Yes." I hesitated before answering. "We were watching Misa Amane."

She looked appalled. "What! Why?"

"A member of the SPK informed me that Amane is, or at least used to be, the Second Kira."

Allie shook her head in disbelief. "B-but…that can't be. She's a celebrity! And she's just so…so…uh…" she trailed off, unable to find the proper word to describe the bimbo.

"It was the conclusion Near arrived at. As much as I hate him, it must be true. There is no other plausible reason for a member of the Japanese Police to stay with her."

I didn't even realize my slip until Allie blurted, "You…_hate_…this Near person?" She stared at me with bewilderment.

"Yeah," I muttered. I was in no mood to tell her my life story. To my relief, she didn't push the subject. Instead, she bowed her head and looked away.

We were quiet for the longest time. A steward came by wheeling the beverage cart and asked if we wanted anything to drink.

"I'm fine. Allie?"

She didn't respond. That's when I noticed her chest rising and falling rhythmically. Her eyes were closed shut. She had finally fallen asleep.

I thanked the attendant and he left. I took my pillow and carefully placed it behind Allie's head. She slumped to the side, and as I reached over to readjust her, I noticed the faint bruises on her neck. It looked like someone had tried to choke the life out of her.

Suddenly I felt a lump in my throat. _That was me…earlier today…_ It felt like years ago that I had caught her trying to steal my bike.

_Look at us now, about __to take on the world. _I just hoped Allie would be up for the challenge.

I suppressed a yawn. I needed to mentally prepare myself to come face to face with Near, once again.

* * *

"_We are preparing for landing. Touchdown will be in approximately ten minutes.__ Please make sure your seatbelts are fastened. We are approaching JFK Airport."_

I jolted awake. For a moment, I panicked. _Where am I? Oh my God, why am I on a plane? _

Then yesterday came rushing back to me. I stiffened when I felt an unfamiliar weight on my shoulder. Mello had fallen asleep, his long golden bangs hanging over his face and veiling his fleshy scar.

"Mello? Mello, wake up. We're about to land." I poked him. Then I shook his arm.

"Mel – "

Suddenly I felt a barrel jab into my stomach. "_Ow!"_

Mello had woken up. He shook his hair out of his eyes, looking extremely wary. "Oh, it's only you. Sorry, force of habit." He slipped the gun back into his pocket.

"Remind me never to wake you up again," I grumbled. I wasn't a morning person.

All was forgotten when Mello pointed out the window. "Allie, look. It's New York." We watched as we rapidly descended through the faded navy sky. Sunrise was approaching.

We had finally arrived.

* * *

**A/N: ****xYourDearlyBeloved has requested a picture of Allie and Mello in New York! The (chibi) sketch is now up on my profile.**


	16. Add

**A/N: Thanks for the continual support from all my loyal and wonderful reviewers; you bring a smile to my face everyday.**

**Note I: I apologize for ****misspelling Halle Lidner's name as 'Hal' in any of the previous chapters; I was following the spelling of the English manga. From now on, Hal will be spelled Halle.**

**Note II: Based on real life experience, you do not have to be ****body/item-searched again when you _arrive_ at your destination unless you're selected at random.**

**Disclaimer: This is just a fan fic.**

* * *

**Chapter 16: Add**

* * *

It was one A.M. in Los Angeles, and the Robinsons were still wide awake. They had been debating for the last few hours whether or not to call their eldest daughter. Finally, they decided to seek her advice and dialed Amanda's number.

She picked up on the third ring. "Hello?" she answered groggily. It was only four in the morning in Boston.

"Amanda!" Monica sobbed.

"M-mom? What's wrong?" her daughter asked sharply, now sounding alert.

John took the phone from his hysterical wife. "Amanda, your sister ran away," he informed her gravely.

"Oh my God! Did you call the police?"

"No," John answered. "We don't want her picture released to the media."

"Why not?" Amanda demanded, astonished.

John hesitated before confessing, "Because we believe she ran off…to find Kira."

"_WHAT?"_

John quickly filled his older daughter in on the details. He told her how Mello, a boy from Alexandra's past, showed up out of nowhere and convinced her to leave with him to New York to seek out the Special Provision for Kira. He left out the part about Allie being a former child prodigy who was to succeed the greatest detective known to mankind but tried to kill herself instead.

There was an extremely long pause. Finally, the twenty-two-year-old law student spoke.

"Let her be, Dad."

Now it was John's turn to be shocked. "How can you say that?"

Amanda sighed into the phone. "Dad, I'm getting the feeling there's more to the story than that. You're clearly hiding something, which was probably why she left. Besides, Allie is almost a grown woman now. She can make her own decisions. She's got a good head on her shoulders."

"She could be _killed_!"

"Everyone dies, Dad."

John bit his lip. Beside him, Monica buried her hands in her face. "We've failed her. We couldn't protect her. She was supposed to live a _normal_ life!" she moaned loudly.

For a moment, there was only static on the line. Amanda was obviously searching for the right thing to say.

And she found it.

Half an hour later, Monica and John were sprawled on their bed, emotionally drained but deep in a dreamless slumber, thanks to their daughter's words.

"_No, Mom. Allie was always destined for great things. You can't mess with destiny."_

* * *

As we touched down, I was instantly filled with dread. What if the SPK just laughed in our faces and turned me away?

_So close, yet so far__._ Near had apparently been my best friend at Wammy's House. I had no idea what he would be like, but judging by Mello's mere reaction to his name...

Well, I didn't know what to expect.

The plane hit the runway, slowing as it approached the landing zone. When it came to a complete stop, the passengers began to applaud.

"_We have arrived at John F__. Kennedy Airport. I hope you had a pleasant journey. Thank you for flying with American Airlines."_

I unbuckled my seatbelt, as did Mello. The other passengers were already standing up, shaking off their jet lag and making their way down the aisles with their things. I got up shakily, and retrieved my duffel bag from the overhead luggage compartment.

_What am I doing?_

I was fully aware that, despite my exceptional past, I was from a completely different world than these people: Matt, Mello, Near and the SPK...L and _Kira. Kira, _the man who could kill with just a name and face. _Kira, _the world's newest _God_. I, on the other hand, was a regular girl. I was in high school, I was in the school play, I did homework and I went out with the few friends I had.

My adoptive parents were right. I had absolutely no idea what I was getting myself into. But I needed to find out the truth; I had no choice. My stomach churned. _Monica, John…I'm so sorry. I hope you can understand why I did this._

"Everything alright?" Mello stood up and peered closely at my face.

"Y-yeah." _No._

"Okay. Let's go."

We merged into the swarm of passengers and stewards leaving the plane. Once we were out, I relaxed slightly. We were swept through a glass corridor and directed to the customs counter, where we lined up to show the security personnel our IDs.

A thought occurred to me. "Mello, can I see yours?"

He smirked. "Why?"

"I'm just curious."

He handed me a small black book. I flipped it open, and suppressed a giggle. It took a sharp eye, but I could tell right away that it wasn't Mello in the photo. The hair and bone structure were close enough; however, the eyes were just not the same. They were small, unfocused and a dull blue, unlike Mello's bright aquamarines.

"I'm assuming this is a fake. Where did you get it?"

"Off the black market, a few years ago." _Thought so. _I quickly scanned it.

**_Surna__me: KANT_**

**_Given Name: __MITCHELL_**

**_Nationality: __UNITED STATES OF AMERICA_**

**_Date of Birth__: 13 DEC 1989_**

I gave him back his passport. "The information's false too, right?"

"Just the name," Mello said innocently.

I mentally filed that little tidbit away. When we reached the counter, the guard gave our passports a fleeting glance.

"No licenses?"

"I haven't gotten it yet," I said, blushing. I was scared to death of the idea of driving, after all these years believing my parents died in a car accident.

"That's fine." The man waved us through. I breathed a sigh of relief.

Several minutes, escalators, and one revolving door later, we found ourselves standing outside on the sidewalk. Cars drove past slowly, circling the parking lots. The sky was still a murky blue, and the waxing gibbous moon was still visible. I checked my phone. It was twenty past four.

I faced my companion. "What now?"

Mello took out his cell phone, and pressed the speed-dial.

"Now, I phone a friend."

* * *

She picked up on the first ring.

"Mello?" Halle breathed.

"JFK Airport," I said curtly.

"I'm on my way." We both hung up at the same time.

That's what I liked about Halle Lidner. She was quick to act, respond.

Although she was officially working for Near, she had no qualms about helping me out or passing along the SPK's information. She was loyal only to her own goal.

"_I'm not on either side, Mello. Both you and Near want to catch Kira…as do I."_

We waited in silence. I took out my almost-finished chocolate and popped it into my mouth. Allie looked at me wistfully.

"It's chilly," she said, shivering in her white t-shirt.

"Yeah. Well, that's New York for you."

My hand was halfway to my jacket zipper when Allie started pawing through her bag. "Good thing I packed this." She picked out a purple hooded sweater and tugged it on, pulling the hood over her head.

"It's about to get worse," I warned her. She looked at me questioningly.

"What do you mean?"

"You'll see."

Before long, a sleek black car pulled up to the curb. The tinted window rolled down a few inches, revealing a flash of Halle's steely, tawny eyes. _Get in, _they said.

I opened the back door, and gestured for Allie to get in.

She looked at me, alarmed. "Who is she?"

"Halle Lidner of the SPK," I replied shortly. "Get in."

Allie obliged. I climbed in after her, shutting the door behind me. Before we had a chance to settle in, Halle tossed something at us. Two pairs of…sunglasses? No, they were blindfolds. Allie looked at them uncertainly.

"Put them on," Halle said coolly, before starting up the car.

"I don't need to," I snapped, matching her icy tone. Allie put hers on without a word. We swiftly sped off, the airport rapidly shrinking behind us.

* * *

Before I submitted to the utter darkness of my blindfold, I had caught a glimpse of the driver, _Halle Lidner. _I committed her image to memory: platinum blonde hair, sharp cheekbones, crimson lips and piercing, golden eyes. When she and Mello exchanged words, the hairs on my arms stood on end.

_This must be what he__ meant by 'worse.'_

My mind was racing as I wondered what the other SPK members were like. I could already tell, by the thick tension in the car, that Halle Lidner was a force to be reckoned with.

We had been driving for at least fifteen minutes, I estimated, when the woman addressed me directly.

"Who are you?"

My heart fluttered at the sound of her frosty voice. I felt something warm and leathery squeeze my hand. I instinctively looked down, even though I couldn't see a thing. I took a breath.

"Alexandra Robinson."

"Why are you here?"

My mind went completely blank. Why _was_ I here?

"She's here to see _Near_," Mello interjected. I could hear the disdain in his voice. "Drive faster." There was a loud _click _and a soft intake of breath, and I knew that Mello had drawn his gun. I cringed before remembering it was just a blank. _But Halle doesn't know that._ The car picked up speed.

I heard a ruffling noise as Mello unzipped and rummaged through my bag. I didn't protest. I could make out the crinkling of foil, followed by a familiar _snap_. When the car began to slow down several moments later, I knew we had finally arrived at the SPK headquarters. The car stopped, and I heard the doors automatically unlock.

"We're here."

* * *

Three, distinct sets of footsteps echoed through the corridors as Halle led us to the control room. The sounds of her staccato heels, my heavy combats and Allie's padding sneakers seemed to be the only signs of life in the building.

I looked back at Allie, who was still wearing her blindfold. Her face was pale, but she was moving along without a problem.

When we reached a set of secured doors, Halle swiped a card through the reader. The doors swished open. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her cream trench coat as I nudged her into the room with my gun.

One man was waiting at the entrance, with his own gun cocked and ready. _Stephen Gevanni._ I immediately noticed that Commander Rester was absent. _How odd. _

"Welcome, Mello and guest."

Near's back was turned to us. As usual, he was sitting on the floor in front of the large wall of screens and monitors. He was crouched next to a giant house of cards.

"Turn around and face us, Near!" I spat. I swung my gun in his direction, though it was just a formality. Gevanni let out a growl, and Halle flinched.

Near didn't move.

"Gevanni, put your gun down."

The dark-haired man stared at me fiercely, and lowered his weapon. I took great satisfaction in seeing his clear, slate-blue eyes widen with surprise when I did the same. Halle moved forward to stand beside her fellow team member.

"Who is that person?" Near asked calmly, adding yet another level to the card house.

I bristled impatiently, restraining the urge to stomp over there and knock it over. "She's a friend."

He tilted his head thoughtfully. "A friend, you say?"

"See for yourself."

Near turned around, careful not to disturb his precious card structure, and stood up. As he approached us, Allie fidgeted beside me, visibly anxious. Near gave her petite figure a long, hard look.

"You may take off the blindfold now."

Allie obeyed. She blinked, adjusting to the glow of the blue-tinged room. Then her gaze fell upon the pajama-clad, white-haired boy in front of her, soaking in the sight of the SPK leader.

"Remove your hood."

Allie pulled it down, causing her dark hair to spill out in waves.

Near eyed her warily. "Who are you?"

_So he __doesn't recognize her either._ I allowed myself a small, smug smile.

* * *

I opened and closed my mouth. I was unsure of how to answer.

_Yes, who am I? Who am I, really?_

My heart was beating like crazy. I was completely mesmerized by the boy standing before me. He was wearing white pajamas, of all things. Everything matched, from his socks to his hair. He was so blindingly white, so incredibly peculiar... and so unsettlingly familiar. His dark grey eyes, almost level with mine, penetrated me as if they were trying to decipher me on the spot. I was glad that the room was dark enough to hide my heated face.

"My name is Alexandra," I said faintly.

"Why are you here?" Near asked bluntly.

"Because…" I stuttered. My mind had gone fuzzy and numb. I looked at Mello pleadingly.

"Because," the older boy said with relish, "_A _is L's true successor."

His words had an instant effect. Halle Lidner and the man called Gevanni looked at each other and shrugged in confusion. "What's going on?" Halle asked sharply and at the same time Gevanni pointed his gun at Mello again. "What is this, a trick?"

Near, on the other hand, stiffened. Then the small boy unexpectedly keeled over and crashed to my feet.


	17. Fun and Games

**D****isclaimer: I don't own Death Note or Toys R' Us or any real things that I might mention in my story.**

**Note****: Some readers have expressed concern about Near's little relapse. I'd like to think of it as a reaction similar to L's, when he watched the Second Kira tapes and fell off his chair screaming about Shinigami. **

**I have an essay and 4 midterms coming up!**** I will try extremely hard to update as soon as possible, so I apologize in advance for any delay.**

* * *

**Chapter 17: Fun and Games**

* * *

Near studied the girl carefully. She was Eurasian, he noted, and stood just an inch taller than him. Her angled, hazel eyes were hauntingly familiar.

"Who are you?"

Near could swear that Mello was _smiling_. It chilled him to the core.

"My name is Alexandra," the girl said quietly. _That voice..._

His heart was beating fast against his tiny ribcage. "Why are you here?" he asked as tonelessly as he could, careful not to betray his emotions.

"Because…" the girl trailed off and looked at Mello for help.

In turn, Mello looked at _him_. The two rivals' eyes met and in that instant, Near just _knew_. The only reason the older boy would have for smiling like that was because either Near or Kira had finally been beaten. And the latter was certainly not the case.

"Because," the scarred blond said with an air of satisfaction, "_A_ is L's true successor."

Lidner and Gevanni exchanged glances. "What's going on?" Halle demanded.

Gevanni aimed his gun at Mello. "What is this, a trick?"

_A._

Near froze. His knees buckled and he found himself collapsing to the floor. Near couldn't believe his ears. _What is Mello playing at?_ He lay face down on the ground, silently pondering the possibilities.

"Near!" Halle cried, dropping to her knees. She flipped the small boy over on his back, checking his pulse.

_Mello has no reason to lie. _No reason, unless he wanted to distract him from catching Kira first. But with the way things have been going, the battle lines had already been blurred. Near had already overlooked Mello's involvement in the murders of half the SPK, and returned his photo from the orphanage. And more importantly, Mello had told them of the Shinigami and the fake rule regarding the notebook. They were even, as far as the investigation went.

_If the Shinigami exist, surely the dead can return to life._

"The title of L rightfully belongs to her. I may have been second to you, Near, but Ax was second to none," Mello declared, his voice sounding oddly distant.

"_A _is dead," Near said breathlessly, stating the falsity as he looked up at the dark ceiling and the whirring fans.

Mello's face entered into view. "Not anymore."

* * *

I took a step back, alarmed by the commotion. Near was lying on the floor, with Mello and Halle bent over him. For a fleeting moment, I thought that Kira had gotten to him. Then I saw his lips move. _A...is...dead._

The man, Gevanni, was watching me while keeping his gun trained on Mello. His strikingly clear eyes raked over my body, most likely checking for concealed weapons. I cautiously lifted my arms up to show I was unarmed.

"I apologize for my momentary relapse," Near's voice rang loud and clear. He picked himself off the floor, brushing at an imaginary speck on his spotlessly white pajama shirt. "Gevanni, don't make me repeat myself. Lower your gun."

Gevanni hesitated before obeying. I marveled at the power of the boy's authority.

"You are A," Near said, his words laced with disbelief.

_That's the thing, _I mentally shouted. _I'm not this "A" anymore. _

But I didn't deny it. "Yes."

"Ax killed herself." The white-haired boy looked at me impassively as I winced.

"So I've been told," I replied uneasily.

"Then you must understand why I find it difficult to believe you."

Mello took charge. "It's the truth. She's suffering from amnesia, but she does have the scar from what happened with Beyond Birthday. I've seen it myself."

Near shook his head. "A lot of people have scars," he murmured.

"Near, stop fucking around!" Mello growled. "She's Ax, and you know it."

"Not yet, but of course, there _is _a way to prove it," Near said silkily.

"How?" I pressed, eager to get this whole thing over and done with.

"Gevanni, Lidner, stay here and watch over the monitors. Follow me," he commanded, looking directly into my eyes. He immediately turned on his heel and strolled out of the room. I shot Mello a nervous glance before hurrying after the pajama-clad boy.

"Don't worry. I'm coming with you," Mello muttered, right behind me.

On our way out, I could feel the eyes of the other two SPK members burn into my back.

* * *

I couldn't believe my eyes. Near had led us to a room completely filled with toys. _So this is where he keeps his shit._

Dice covered every square inch of the walls, glued into place. It looked like a padded room, except for the enormous ball pit in the centre of the room. It was overflowing with boxes of puzzles, rubber ducks and plastic robots, among other things.

Toys "R" Us for the geniusly insane.

Near climbed into the ball pit. Allie's jaw dropped.

"What the hell is this?" I snapped. "There's no time for fun and games!"

Near's snowy-white head poked out of the mass of toys. "Who's having fun?" he said, with a ghost of a smile. He eventually emerged with a plastic doctor's kit and a silver briefcase.

"Please sit down." Near dropped to a crouch and waited as Allie and I did the same. We knelt down opposite him.

"What's the meaning of this?" I snarled. I was starting to feel claustrophobic.

Near wordlessly opened the silver briefcase, dumping the contents onto the floor in front of us. Hollow, rubber miniatures spilled out. _Finger puppets. _

One in particular caught my eye. I immediately snatched it up, feeling sick. The blond puppet was wearing a black vest and a red rosary. There was a carefully painted scar on its face. There was no mistaking it.

"Is this supposed to be _me_?" I sneered, squeezing the figurine between my fingers.

"Yes. Do you like it?" Near looked at me. I could almost swear there was a glimmer of hope in his normally blank eyes.

"No. And I thought _I _was fucked up," I snorted, tossing it back to the floor. It bounced and rolled to a stop at Near's socked feet.

"That's too bad. Because I do," Near said lightly. He picked up the Mello-puppet and placed it gently, almost tenderly, into the briefcase. He began to sift through the rest of puppets with exaggerated motions. Allie and I watched in morbid fascination as he returned them to the silver case, one by one.

_Plunk, _went a red-haired puppet with yellow-tinted goggles.

_Thunk, thunk, thunk. _Halle, Rester and Gevanni – all in matching suits – dropped in after Matt.

"Why do you have these?" Allie asked carefully, voicing the burning question on the tip of my own tongue.

_Plunk, plunk. _Two, almost identical-looking figures followed. One had white hair, while the other's was painted black. Near and… _L?_

"They help me think."

And then there was _Kira_. Near viciously squashed the masked, yellow-shirted figurine before tossing it into the briefcase. He did the same to the next one, a pigtailed blond in a black dress. A large cross marked her front. _Misa Amane._

_Thump__. Thump._

Soon, only one remained. It was much smaller than the others. The lone puppet was wearing a green dress. A lock of brown hair sprouted from its tiny head.

It was _real_ hair.

_Fucking hell. _I swallowed hard. I couldn't drag my eyes away from the little doll that was Allie…Ax...A.

There was a long stretch of silence as the three of us stared down at the puppet.

"Is that _me_?" Allie finally gasped. Her expression was unreadable. "Is that… my hair?"

"It is Ax's hair," Near confirmed.

"How the hell do you have her _hair_?" I exploded. True, Near and Ax had been close friends at Wammy's, but they had only been children. I pushed the offending thought out of my mind.

"It was a gift," he said serenely. Allie turned pink. Suddenly, there was a lump in my throat.

"Right," I said roughly. "Now what?"

Near pushed away the silver briefcase, and popped open the plastic doctor's kit. I felt my eyes bulge out in surprise. I had been half-expecting a toy stethoscope and bandages. Instead, there was a small screen, along with several delicate-looking tubes. It was a DNA analyzer.

Near carefully peeled off a hair from the puppet, and slipped it into a test tube. Then he looked at Allie expectantly.

* * *

I knew what I had to do.

I plucked out a strand of my hair, and handed it over. _This is it._

Near slid the single hair into a separate vial, and then inserted both of the samples into either side of the screen. The screen lit up as the hairs were analyzed.

"How long will it take?" I asked curiously. I knew that DNA testing ranged from hours to days, even weeks. But I also had a feeling that Near's equipment was beyond those of ordinary labs.

Near didn't even have a chance to reply. A loud _beep _told me the answer.

I watched the boy's face as he scanned the results. His eyes clouded over.

"A," he said quietly, "it really _is _you." He set aside the doctor's kit, and crawled over to me. Mello visibly tensed as Near came closer and closer.

The white-haired boy suddenly threw his arms around my neck.

"_Ax!"_


	18. Rearing Its Ugly Head

**Disclaimer: ****This is just a fan fic.**

* * *

**Chapter 18: Rearing Its Ugly Head**

* * *

"Ax!"

As Near draped his arms around the neck of his long-lost friend, all I could hear were Matt's last words echoing in my head, words he had teasingly whispered in my ear before departing.

"_She's all yours, Mello…" _

Matt obviously meant it as a joke, and I had dismissed it. Now, I couldn't get it off my mind. Something inside of me flared as I watched Allie embrace him as well.

"Call me Allie," she mumbled sheepishly, awkwardly patting my rival's back.

_It's only natural__._

I could only stare as Near – notoriously incapable of human emotions, let alone affection – buried his snowy head even deeper into Allie's purple sweater. He looked like an oversized kitten in her arms. Even _I_ had to admit the sight was moving. I silently cursed my own weakness, hating Near more than ever.

"Allie," Near murmured. There was a familiar sensation growing in the pit of my stomach, not unlike how I used to feel whenever he surpassed me back at Wammy's.

_"O! beware, my lord, of jealousy; it is the green-eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on."_

I couldn't help but recall the most infamous line from Shakespeare's _Othello_. I grimaced at my own comparison. _Grow up, _I reprimanded myself.

I stood up, disgruntled. "I'll be outside."

"Mello." Near's voice was muffled.

I stopped in my tracks. "What?"

"Thank you."

That was the last straw. But before I could make my escape, Halle and Gevanni burst into the room.

"Near, the second L –" Halle stopped abruptly, noticing his reunion with Allie. Near reluctantly released the small brunette. I grinned when I saw the relief on Allie's face, and the knot in my stomach unraveled.

"What is it?" Near asked, twisting a strand of his hair agitatedly.

Halle looked unnerved. "L has connected with us. He said it was urgent."

With a stony expression, Near bolted to his feet.

_L…_

_Light Yagami…_

_Kira._

Halle gave me a significant look, which I pretended not to notice. It only seemed like yesterday when she relayed to me Near's deduction that the second L may be Kira. Furthermore, Near had Aizawa confirm that the present L had once been placed in confinement by the original L, along with another – _Kira and the Second Kira._

Near had ordered Halle not to tell me that he suspected Light Yagami, as he believed I would have reached to the same conclusion eventually. But Halle didn't bother with the bullshit. All she wanted was to catch Kira, period. And all I wanted was to catch Kira before Near did.

All of us were out of the door in a flash.

* * *

Every screen and every monitor in the SPK control room had turned blindingly white, each one emblazoned with a black Wedding Text font _L. _

A chill ran up my spine.

"_The legendary detective, L. The one who was killed by Kira!" _Mello had just told me several hours ago that L was dead. So what was going on? I looked at him questioningly.

"This L is a fake," Mello informed me quietly. "All of us believe he's most likely Kira as well."

I was stunned. "Do you know who it is?"

"A member of the Japanese Task Force." He paused. "Light Yagami."

_Yagami__? Why does that name sound so familiar? _

I frantically searched my memory. Then it clicked. I'd only heard _Yagami_ once before, but it had to be it.

When Mr. Jones first brought Misa Amane to the set of _Mulan Modernized _several weeks ago, the drama teacher had excitedly introduced her as _Miss Amane. _

The bubbly Japanese idol had immediately corrected him, wagging her ringed finger for everyone to see. _"That's _Mrs. Yagami _to you!"_

Of course, this had caused a major uproar. Misa had refused to divulge any further details, and she eventually told everyone to call her Misa-Misa instead.

It made perfect sense. According to Mello, Matt was keeping an eye on her because she was, or used to be, the "Second Kira". It couldn't just be a coincidence that she was engaged to a man named Yagami, who happened to be Near's prime suspect.

"He's Misa's fiancé, isn't he?" I asked Mello in a low voice. Near and the other two SPK members were putting on their headsets. Mello nodded grimly.

"Mello. Allie."

To our surprise, Near tossed us each a headset before adjusting his own, which was the only one that had a microphone. "You may listen in."

Mello calmly put his pair on.

My heart began to pound like crazy. There was no going back now. If Mello and the SPK's suspicions were right, I'd soon be hearing the voice of L – no, the voice of _Kira._

I yanked on my headset as well. We all stood next to Near, who was perched on his leather chair.

"L, this is Near."

Near smirked into the microphone, not bothering to hide his contempt. I was taken aback by how much his expression reminded me of Mello's whenever he looked at Near. Although Mello didn't tell me directly, I had a notion that his dislike for the smaller boy, _my former best friend_, was due to jealousy.

"_Near, I have news."_

The voice on the other end, like Near's, was scrambled, yet somehow it was so much more menacing. I shuddered with the knowledge that this fake L could be Kira himself.

_How twisted is this? He's virtually invincible._

"Yes?" Near replied coldly.

Mello visibly clenched his jaw, glaring at the L-splashed screens with an intense expression of hatred that matched Near's own. He obviously hated both Near and this fake L. And similarly, Near not only hated this L because of the likelihood that he was Kira, he hated him for claiming the name of L – Near's rightful title…

…which, ironically, wasn't his anymore.

It was mine.

Nevertheless, I knew it was just a formality and no matter how much Mello insisted, I knew I could never do it. I was no genius, and I did not belong here. I couldn't even compare to these two. No matter how bright or important I was in my past as "A" or "Ax", I just wasn't the same person anymore. My destiny had changed, and I had already overstepped my boundaries by running away from home. I was only here because I wanted answers. Now that I got them, all I wanted to do was…

_What did I want to do?__ I can't go back home now, can I?_

Deep down, I was afraid of the answer. Because deep down, I knew that I wanted to help them catch Kira as well.

If I wasn't already sure, the next second clinched it.

L's tinny, mechanical voice drilled into our ears once again.

"_Someone reported __a possible sighting of Mello. He was at LAX last night, and he wasn't alone."_

Mello and I could only stare at each other in horror. Halle and Gevanni turned to look at us with equally shocked looks. Near merely stiffened.

_Oh shit._

* * *

I stared at Allie. _I've placed her in danger. What have I done?_

Near sprung into action.

"Is that so?" he droned dully, not giving any indication that he was disturbed by L's announcement.

There was a pause. I swore inwardly when I realized his small uncharacteristic blunder, and willed with all my might that the second L wouldn't pick up on it. Hopefully, he didn't know Near well enough.

But he did.

"_Near, it's not like you to ask rhetorical questions. Perhaps you know something about this?"_

For the first time in the years that I'd known him, he looked flustered. His eyes glazed over and he turned absolutely white, if that were even possible. Near didn't reply.

"Near, fucking say something," I growled under my breath.

He appeared not to hear me. In fact, he seemed frozen in place.

"Near?" Halle placed a manicured hand on his small, white shoulder. He didn't react to her touch at all.

"_What's wrong?" _L's mechanical voice said. I could sense the smugness in his question.

_Nothing, _I mentally yelled. _Near's just being an idiot._ By not answering, he was basically admitting that he knew exactly where I was, putting himself and the SPK in jeopardy if they were accused of harboring a fugitive. But deep down, I couldn't completely blame him for being a bit deterred. After all, it wasn't everyday that one finds out their dead friend was actually alive all these years.

But what happened next fazed even _me_.

* * *

The moment Near froze, I grew cold.

Mello swore under his breath. "Near, fucking say something."

An immense wave of guilt came over me. I couldn't even begin to imagine the pressure he must be under, every single day…all because I tried to kill myself all those years ago, unable to handle the pressure myself.

I couldn't blame him.

Something inside of me snapped, and I suddenly found myself stepping closer to Near.

* * *

Allie bent her head down towards Near's until their mouths were just inches apart. _What the hell?_ For one fleeting moment, I was certain she was going to kiss him. Instead, she twisted Near's microphone away from his lips and briskly spoke into it.

"I apologize. Equipment malfunction. You were saying?"

I almost rubbed my hands with glee. _Simple, yet perfect. _

* * *

"_Can you hear me now?"_

"Yes." I looked at Near, who seemed to have regained his composure. However, he nodded for me to continue.

"_According to our source, Mello __was purchasing plane tickets at the American Airlines kiosk. One of the few red-eye flights running at that time was to New York. Maybe the SPK knows something about his whereabouts?"_

"No, we don't," I lied evenly. "Did you get any information about who he was with?"

"_N__o." _There was a pause. _"We suspect that Mello is on the move again. Without the Mafia backing him up, we believe that he has enlisted the help of someone who used to attend Wammy's."_

Mello's hand suddenly shot out, gripping me by my wrist. My heart plummeted. _How_ - ?

I took a deep breath. "Who is it?"

"_By their description…"_

* * *

Light Yagami glanced down at the sketches, which had been provided courtesy of the head of Wammy's House when he had sent Aizawa and Matsuda there to investigate.

Roger Ruvie had told the two detectives all he knew about L's top two successors, Near and Mello. He had also helpfully provided them with a third portrait, a smaller and obviously more carelessly done sketch as if it had been created as an afterthought.

_Third in line…_

Light gazed at the otherwise unremarkable drawing, if it were not for the one distinguishing feature. He originally couldn't even tell if it was a girl or a boy. His only clue came from the alias.

"By their description," he informed the SPK headquarters, "we believe his name is _Matt_."


	19. Initiation Rites

**A/N: ****I'm miraculously still alive after scraping past 3 midterms. ****Thank you for your continual support, to all you awesome readers and amazing reviewers! 1200+ hits! You know who you are. **

**Disclaimer: ****This is just a fan fic.**

* * *

**Chapter 19: Initiation Rites **

* * *

"…_we believe his name is Matt."_

I felt like I was about to throw up. All of the air had gone out of my lungs. _Oh God, no._ But at least Allie was safe_. For now._

The fake L barreled on. _"All we know is that he was third in line to succeed the original L. Is this correct?"_

Near and I both nodded. There was really no point in denying it.

"Yes," Allie answered numbly.

"_One more thing. There was a girl with them too, but she has yet to be identified. We'll be operating under the assumption that both are acting as Mello's cohorts."_

Allie's hazel eyes widened with alarm. "I see," she forced out.

So they had seen her after all.

My chest tightened, and my instincts went into overdrive.

_Fuck__ing hell._ I automatically released Allie's wrist and dug my hand into my coat pocket. I yanked out the chocolate bar that I had started eating during the drive here. I tore off the entire wrapper in one swift movement, crinkling the gold foil as loudly as I could.

"_Do you know who she might be? As I said, we have no other information on them other than their physical descri – what's that sound?" _

Allie jumped in surprise as I leaned my face in close to hers. Near, who was still wearing the headset, merely blinked at my proximity. I bit into the chocolate with a defiant _snap_, making sure to chew as noisily and threateningly as possible. I slurped a little, before finishing with a loud gulp.

L – or more accurately, Light Yagami – paused for a moment. His artificial voice rang with suspicion.

"_Near, what was that?"_

"That," I sneered into the microphone, "was your worst nightmare."

There was an audible intake of breath on the other end of the line before I cut off the connection. I retreated, avoiding Near's accusatory glare.

* * *

Light stared at the intercom in sheer disbelief. The other members of the Japanese Task Force were huddled behind him, taking off their headsets. They were visibly shaken.

"That was Mello, wasn't it?" Light asked no one in particular. _Shit! It's the second time this month he's met up with Near. What's he doing over there? Does he have Matt and the girl with him? I have to find out, but I'll need to make it seem like it's merely on the basis that he's a wanted fugitive…_

"Near lets him come and go as he pleases," Matsuda spluttered. "What does he think he is, above the law?"

"Mello is a slippery character, as we know," Light said as darkly as he could. "Although we are technically outside American jurisdiction, we should do what we can to catch him."

"Yes," Matsuda agreed. "After all, he killed the Chief."

_Good job, Matsuda._

Ide and Aizawa were unnaturally quiet, Light observed. He tapped his fingers on his desk. "What do you think about this, Aizawa?"

The rugged man hesitated before replying, "I think we're wasting our time with Mello. He's not our main concern anymore; neither are his new associates, whoever they are. As far as we can tell, Mello is just trying to catch Kira."

"Or he might be planning to steal the other notebook," Matsuda argued.

"Our duty to the world is to arrest Kira, not Mello," Ide stated firmly. "Let's get back to work."

Aizawa nodded. "We should try and find more leads."

Light had to restrain himself from screaming at his men. He had counted on Matsuda's reminder about his father, shot and bombed to death by Mello and his minion, to temporarily redirect their focus to the rogue man. Mello – _Mihael Keehl_ – was proving himself to be a worthy adversary. He shouldn't have expected less from him, after the fiascos with his sister's kidnapping, the raids, his father's death...

Mello was too dangerous to be left alive. Once more, Light cursed his dead father's cowardice. _You only had to write his last name down, you idiot!_

"I guess you're right," Light sighed. "We shouldn't really be bothered by what Near or Mello are up to. Let's just keep our minds on Kira."

"But Light…what about Sayu? And your mother?" Matsuda insisted.

_What of them? _

"Aizawa is right, Matsuda. Kira started all of this, and I'll see to it personally that it'll all be brought to an end," Light said passionately, injecting just the right amount of emotion into his well-chosen words.

"R-right!" Matsuda hung his head.

Everyone else murmured in agreement, and eventually returned to their respective work stations.

_I'll see to it personally that it'll all be brought to an end. _Light smirked at his own cleverness.

_Bring it on, Mello. Bring it on, Near. I can't wait to get rid of you two__. _

* * *

"Mello," my white-clad rival said disapprovingly, "now he knows you're here. What are you going to do now?"

"What were you trying to prove?" Halle cried out.

"Are you _trying_ to get us all killed?" Gevanni barked.

Allie remained silent.

Despite this, I knew I had done the right thing. I had let _Kira _know _exactly _who he was dealing with. _No one messes with Matt_. All bets were off. It had always been between me and Near, from the very start. The mafia versus the SPK, in a race to get our hands on Kira – and the Death Note_…_

Win or lose, Near and I were both prepared to die. We were both prepared to sacrifice the other.

But Matt, or Allie?

_Matt, never._

Although Matt had volunteered to assist me, I knew I didn't deserve his help. When I left Wammy's five years ago, I essentially ditched him. We lost all contact with each other, and the guilt and pain of it dogged me every night. After the explosion, I was finally free from the Mafia. _Free_. Free to seek out Matt again.

I'd been scared shitless that he'd hate me for abandoning him, but the first moment in five years that I'd laid eyes on that carefree smile of his – just two weeks ago – I knew he was okay. From the moment he vowed to "make me pretty again", from the moment he demanded _"Are you still a virgin?" (Yes Matt, so what?)_ I knew everything had been forgiven.

I couldn't even bear the thought of losing him…or…

"Well?" Near prompted.

"I won't be staying here. I'm going to hunt Kira down myself and kill him with my bare hands!" I declared. I turned on my heel, ready to leave.

_Good-bye, Near. Good-bye, Allie. I've done my part._

"Mello…?"

I whirled around. "Allie, you should stay here with Near or go home to Los Angeles."

"What?" She looked stricken. "I can't go back now!"

"Then stay here. You should be safe with the SPK. I'm assuming Near won't have any objections," I said sharply.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Gevanni shifting uncomfortably. Halle coughed delicately.

"Safe?" Allie put her hands on her hips, scowling. "Are you forgetting who I am? You said it yourself. I'm _A, _L's true successor."

_That was before I __fully realized how much danger I've put you in._

"Well, I take it back," I said harshly. "You've lost your memories. You've lost your training. You're not one of us. I'm sorry for putting that idea into your head."

"Look," Allie said, just as fiercely. "I want to help catch Kira. It's the least I can do. I don't care about anything else right now. I'm… in this for the long run."

"That's the thing," I retorted. "There won't _be _a long run." Swallowing my pride, I looked at Near for assistance. I knew he would agree with me; there was no way he would want to put his best friend on the front lines to catch Kira.

A calculating look entered the small detective's dark eyes. "Ax…Allie. As much as I've missed you, you can't just come waltzing in here and call yourself the next L. You have no rights to his name anymore…"

Relief washed over me.

"…but you _can _earn it back," Near finished slyly.

_Son of a bitch._

* * *

Near's words hung in the air.

"I'll do it!" I automatically blurted.

For some reason, Mello bared his teeth. "What?" he raged.

_Whoa._

"Mello shouldn't let his inferiority complex get in the way of us catching Kira," Near pointed out calmly.

_Inferiority complex?_

So I was right. Mello _was _jealous of Near. It was all obvious now. Mello must've joined the Mafia to surpass Near.

"I don't have an inferiority complex. And there is no _us_," Mello spat. His gloved hand flew to his holster. Halle and Gevanni leapt in front of him.

"Mello, don't!" Halle shouted.

"Then you shouldn't have a problem with Allie helping me out with the investigation," Near replied, nodding in my direction. He began to rub a strand of his white hair between his fingers. When I realized I was staring, I nervously smiled back.

"I do," the blond spluttered. "_I'm _not your tool, and neither is _she_!"

"I'm not using anyone," Near said sincerely. "I've always wanted to work with you, Mello. Why are you so against my suggestion?"

"Because …" Mello trailed off, and for a moment his mask of hate and fury slipped, revealing one of vulnerability. My heart skipped a beat. He looked so…_scared._

"Yes?" Near pressed, seemingly oblivious to Mello's discomfort.

Mello glanced at me, and I evenly held his gaze. There was a flicker of emotion in his eyes, and his face suddenly lit up.

"You know, it's not a bad idea," the blond mused thoughtfully.

My jaw literally dropped. I couldn't believe he could backtrack so fast. It was clear that he was just doing it to avoid Near's question.

The white-haired SPK leader narrowed his eyes shrewdly. "What made you change your mind?"

"A few bright ideas of my own," Mello said casually. A wicked smile spread across his face.

An equally wicked smirk played on Near's pale lips. "Really? I can't wait to see them. I've heard a lot of wild stories. Rumors, I'm sure. But I may be wrong."

_What __the hell is he talking about?_

"Wild stories about what?" I interrupted, confused. "I thought we were talking about how I could win back L's title."

"That's what we're discussing," Near said politely.

I looked at Mello for clarification.

"Initiation," the scarred ex-Mafia elaborated, and suddenly I wasn't so keen on helping out anymore.

* * *

Allie blanched, and I had to restrain from laughing at her frightened expression.

"You don't know much about the mafia induction ceremony, do you?" I inquired mock-innocently. I began to pace back and forth, my boots making satisfying clunks against the gleaming floor.

"Uh," she said, embarrassed. "I've seen _The Godfather_. I've read books."

"And what did you learn from them?"

"That it involves…blood, drugs, and…sex?" Allie looked mortified as the words left her mouth. I noticed that Near had stopped fiddling with his hair, and was leaning forward interestedly.

"There's always blood," I said. I took a step towards Allie, who was at the moment leaning against one of the computer desks. She looked at me with wide eyes. "Drugs, sometimes." I took another step closer. Allie was unable to move, frozen in either fascination or fear.

"As for sex…" I purred, letting my warm, freshly chocolate breath wash over her face. "…_it depends."_

She stared at me, jaw slackened. Her face had turned deliciously pink. It was too easy.

"Don't be ridiculous." Near was suddenly at my elbow. "I cannot allow any illicit activities under this roof."

"Only drugs can be considered _illicit_," I replied, shrugging. Allie made a strangled sound in her throat.

"So what do you propose?" Near shot back. It was funny – it almost felt like we were...brainstorming. Together. I pushed aside the disgusting thought.

"It's simple. Do you remember playing hide-and-seek at Wammy's House?" I asked. It was for Allie's benefit. I myself was fully aware that he had always played with us during recess before A's suicide. After that, he became a complete loner, despite Linda's active efforts to include him.

"Yes," Near replied. His voice had become somewhat distant and wistful. I could hardly believe my ears. _Is Near going soft already?_ "You were always _it. _Ax was always the last one to be found, and I was the first. Perhaps white clothing isn't the best for hiding."

Allie stifled a giggle. Near and I both looked at her. "Oh," she hastily explained, "that explains why I've always liked hide-and-seek so much. My boyf – my ex – thought it was childish of me."

It could've been my imagination, but Near stiffened at the word _ex_.

"Being childish and being childlike are two different things," he asserted smoothly. "Luckily, it doesn't play any part in your mental capabilities."

_Speak for yourself, _I thought, remembering his freaky padded toy room.

"And more importantly," I continued, "I was able to use it to work my way up the ranks without dealing with drugs, or sex."

Allie's eyes popped open in surprise. "How?"

I averted my gaze. "By getting a lot of blood on my hands…"

…

_Rod Ross __glanced at the package in my hand in undisguised admiration. With one arm draped around a prostitute, he used his free hand to unzip the bag._

_The target – I didn't need his name – dropped out, landing on the plush, luxury rug with a sickening thud. More accurately, his head._

The girl next to Ross let out a little yelp. She turned pale when he shot her a look of disdain.

"Go," he roared, pushing the girl off the couch. "Come back in half an hour."

The hooker scurried off, casting me a look of horror and repulsion. I swallowed the bile that was rising in my own throat, and kicked the decapitated head until it rolled over face-down. I couldn't bear looking at the slimy, dead, blood-shot eyes.

"So," I sneered, "I believe this is what you wanted."

"Yeah," the burly, white-suited man grunted. "How did you do it? We've been trying to hunt him down for ages, and you only showed up yesterday!"

I crossed my bare arms. "I'm a natural. I can find anyone and anything – "

"Interesting," Ross cut me off. "But is that all you can do for us?"

I growled, and the bigger man jumped in surprise."The question is, what can _you_ do for me?"

"WHAT?" Ross shouted, and before I knew it, I was completely surrounded by his underlings. My heart in my throat, I managed to keep a poker face.

"Listen," I said silkily. "I found this place, no problem. Doesn't that say something about your men? Here's what I propose. Give me one hour, and I can track each one down and kill them off. This world is about hiding and seeking, Ross. In fact that's your business. And in today's era of Kira, it's all we can do – until _we_ become the seekers."

To my relief, the leader of the Mafia seemed to consider my words. His minions seemed equally as impressed, if not disturbed. "You're young, yet you have such extraordinary talent," Ross muttered. "Why did you come to us in the first place?"

I got straight to the point. "So we can find Kira and become number one in the world."

Needless to say, there was instant chaos.

"Huh?"

"_Kira_?"

"Number one? We're already number one…aren't we?"

"Are you fucking crazy, kid? Go to hell!" a young-looking guy dared to yell. He didn't look much older than me.

"No, I'm not," I said calmly. My insides shattered. _But I am. I'm all of those. God, I am so sorry. If it's too late for my soul, can you at least look over Matt's?_

"I'm not _fucking crazy_, I'm not a _kid_, and I'm _not _going to hell," I added for emphasis, fingering my red-beaded rosary before drawing my Beretta and shooting him right between the eyes.

The smart-mouthing shithead's fellow Mafia brothers leapt back in shock as his blood splattered all over their expensive suits. _Suits_, I thought derisively. _How tacky. _In unison, they pulled their guns out and trained them on me.

_I ignored them and stared hard at Rod Ross.__ He was smirking. "Guns down, everyone. I was about to get rid of him, anyway. He deserved to be wasted. You belong right at the top with me…what was your name again?" _

_I knew he was just asking to make it official. His lackeys lowered their weapons and began to look at me with respect. Ha. That was fast._

"_Mello," I breathed, aware that I was anything but what my alias implied... _

…

"Blood?" Allie said plaintively, breaking me out of my thoughts.

"This whole thing is a bloody game," I said thickly. "This game, to catch Kira, is nothing but hide-and-seek." The younger girl was looking at me seriously.

"Typically, the initiation rites include a dinner, a blood oath and a challenge to overcome. Doing it my way, we'll skip the dinner and the blood oath. _For now_," I continued.

Allie nodded quickly. Near was beginning to play with his hair again. _So he knows where I'm going with this, doesn't he?_

"My challenge for you, Allie, is to hide for one hour. If you can do that successfully, you have my blessing as A and L, and…I'll be happy to work alongside _you_ to catch Kira."

She looked back and forth between me and Near. "No."

I narrowed my eyes. "Why? It won't involve any bloodshed."

Allie blushed. She looked down at her hands, and twiddled her thumbs. "I want us to work together. The three of us. You say it's a game, and I can tell that you and Near are competing against each other to catch Kira. But I have a feeling that's not what L would've wanted. As the greatest detective in the world, as someone who went to great lengths to hide my past…he would've done this purely for justice."

Silence followed her words. _It's true, _I realized. Maybe Near and I were being too childish. No, I couldn't think like that. It was _my_ drive that got us – me – this far.

Near cleared his throat. "He couldn't solve the puzzle. He lost the game. He was nothing but a lo – "

"Shut up, Near!" I barked. "Stop saying that! We both adored him to the ends of this earth, and you know it!"

Near scratched his head. "I suppose, but I like... I _have_ no problems with working all together, Ax." He peered at the girl with his owlish grey eyes. "That is, if you pass Mello's test, and mine, afterwards."

"What is it?" Allie asked apprehensively.

"Knowing him," I scoffed with contempt, "you'll probably have to play _chess_ or _cards_."

Near didn't even bat an eye. "Something like that," he murmured. We were quiet for a moment. If Allie really pulled this off, then…

"Near, Commander Rester has arrived in Japan," Gevanni suddenly piped up. He had seated himself at the other computer desk, and was looking at his screen. "He says that it'll take him a few hours to find a place to set everything up."

"Perfect timing," the SPK leader commented. "Now we have sufficient time to sort things out. Are you ready to be tested like never before, _Allie_?"

The small Eurasian girl's face was set with determination. Her eyes sparkled with what I recognized as renewed hope.

"I am," she said simply.


	20. Besting the Best: Round One

**A/N: ****At long last, I only have one midterm left! My updates will gradually become faster again, so hang on tight.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note.**

**Warning! Do not try Mello/Matt's elevator-hacking trick in public! It apparently has…mixed results.**

* * *

**Chapter 20: Besting the Best – Round One **

* * *

The rules were simple.

One, I had to stay on SPK property. I couldn't leave the premises to go romping off across the city, which was fine by me. I didn't want to get lost in the heart of New York anyway.

However, I was at a huge disadvantage. From the looks of the countless monitors that filled the communications control room, Near had cameras set up in virtually every hallway, every room, every crook and nanny of the building, except…

_Hmm._

Two, I had to keep hidden for exactly one hour. If I was tagged before time was up, I'd lose.

_I won't._

Three, I wasn't allowed to ask for help.

_I d__on't need it._

"Blindfold," Mello demanded, holding out his hand. I gave him the blindfolding sunglasses that I had stashed in my pocket earlier. He slipped them over his piercing eyes.

"Ready?" he said menacingly, his blond head inclined toward my direction.

"Yeah," I answered steadily. I was squirming in my shoes.

"Good luck." I nearly jumped out of my skin when Near tugged my pinky finger.

I didn't get a chance to thank him.

"60, 59, 58…" Mello announced.

I immediately yanked off my ratty sneakers, my hoodie and my sweat pants to reveal my white t-shirt, black boy shorts and white socks. I had a feeling I was going to work up a sweat, so it was better to get rid of the extra weight. I threw my discarded clothing into a little pile on the floor. Near didn't react at all. On the other hand, Gevanni had suddenly whipped around to focus intently on his computer screen. I felt a bit embarrassed, but there was no time for modesty.

"…50!"

I was off like a shot, feeling like an idiot. Never in a million years would I have imagined that I'd be playing hide-and-seek right here, right now, of all times and places, to decide my fate.

"_Oof – !_"

Halle let out a startled yelp as I barreled right into her, knocking her down. I landed hard on top of the woman, and for a split second her body grew limp. Her icy golden eyes were unfocused as she blinked up at me.

"Oh no - I'm so sorry, Miss Lidner," I whispered as I helped her up, smoothing down her cream-colored coat.

"It's alright, Alexandra," she replied waspishly, moving away from my hands.

"40!_" _Mello called out, oblivious to the commotion.

I bowed my head in apology before dashing to the automatic doors. As soon as they swished open, I sped out. I didn't have much time. As I ran down the dimly lit hall, I listed the turns through my head in reverse.

_One left, one right, another right__._

When I was blindfolded earlier, I had made sure to pay as much attention as possible to my unseen surroundings. From the moment I stepped out of the car, every detail was committed to memory – every sound, every turn, and every step.

My socked feet barely made a sound against the cold floor. _Underground lot, elevator, ten floors, nine corners, _I mentally chanted as I sprinted.

I needed to get to that elevator_._

I passed two bathrooms. For some reason, the sight struck me as strange. Simple, civilian segregation seemed out of place here. For a moment, I considered hiding out in the women's room. _Nah, too obvious. _Nothing was going to stop Mello from looking in there.

Besides, I didn't waste those ten precious seconds for nothing.

I turned another corner, grasping Halle's car key tightly in my fist.

* * *

"…ready or not, here I come!" I exclaimed, whipping off the blindfold.

Near was crouching behind his house of cards, busying himself once more with building extra layers. Gevanni was still at his computer. Halle was at her desk, rubbing her head. I gave her an odd look.

"Your little girlfriend ran into me," she explained coldly, turning back to her own computer.

My ears burned. "Okay then?" I muttered.

I scanned the room quickly, in case Allie was hiding right under my nose. That's when I spotted the heap of clothes lying on the floor – Allie's shoes, her purple sweater, and her grey track pants.

_What the hell__? Is she running around in her underwear? _I scooped up the sweater. It was still warm. My eyes darted to the others. They were busy at work. I quickly took a sniff. It smelled like…Dove soap.

Huh.

I put the sweater back down, and turned my attention to the screens. Gone were the white backdrops with L's bold insignia; each monitor revealed different live feeds within the building and its numerous rooms. It would be impossible to miss a thing.

At the moment there was no movement, whatsoever.

"Near, where are the tapes?"

He looked up from his card structure. "Wouldn't that be cheating?" the white-haired brat said pointedly.

"Technically, there's no rule against it," I shot back, although I secretly felt bad. But just a bit. There was no way I was going to lose.

Near produced a small remote from his pajama pocket. "You can replay whatever you want with this. Just point and click." He tossed it at me, and I caught it deftly.

I examined the tiny remote. It had only three buttons – pause, rewind and reset. I pointed it at the first screen, which showed the hallway just outside the room, and pressed _rewind. _The screen flickered and a few seconds later, I caught a flash of white.

I let go of the button, letting the video run. Sure enough, it was Allie. Her wavy, brown hair streamed behind her as she ran. The camera tracked her movements until she turned the corner, out of sight. I pressed rewind again, and hit pause. I inspected the image closely.

_Oh my G – _she _was _running around in her underwear. The camera had captured a full back shot, providing me with a complete view of her black boy shorts and her b –

"Enjoying yourself?"

"Shut up," I snapped. I pressed the _reset _button and it switched back to its regular, live feed mode. "How much time has passed?"

"Two minutes," Near stated. His eyes bore into mine."Hurry up, Mello…or not."

"Stop distracting me."

I continued the process with each of the other screens, mentally mapping out Allie's trail. _Poor Allie, she doesn't stand a chance. _I had to give her credit, though. She was in incredible shape, not even stopping once for a break. She seemed to know exactly where she was going, too.

Three minutes later, I had all the information I needed. I set down the remote on the floor and kicked it over to Near, who stopped it dead in its tracks before it could hit his card creation.

I whirled around, sauntering through the automatic doors and out of the room.

_Allie__, here I come!_

* * *

I frantically jabbed at the elevator button. _Hurry, hurry, hurry!_ I had a looming feeling that Mello was already closing in on me. And it had only been what, five minutes?

_Ding._

I tumbled inside the moment the stainless steel door slid open. Breathing hard, I ran my hand up and down the panel of buttons, from the top floor to the ground floor. Twenty-four buttons in total.

I dashed out of the elevator before it closed shut.

* * *

I began to run, my combat boots thundering against the floor. Adrenaline was pumping through my veins, flooding my head. I was already giddy from the rush.

I was a natural. I was born to hunt.

For a moment, I could forget about Near. I could forget about Kira. I could forget about being in the Mafia.

For a moment, I was thirteen again.

* * *

There was no mistaking it. I could hear the clatter of Mello's boots from a mile away. He was heading straight towards me, as I predicted. _He must've been watching the surveillance tapes._

But that also meant that he wasn't anymore.

_It's all about the timing, _I thought, glancing down the hall to the stairwell.

We were on the tenth floor. Ten floors wouldn't take too long. I jogged over to the door and wrenched it open. I closed it carefully, just as Mello rounded the corner.

I froze, and peered out of the door's small glass window.

* * *

_Which floor is she getting off?_

I hoped she wouldn't think of using the emergency stop button. That'd be smart and fool-proof, but it wouldn't be fun at all.

No, the Wammy prodigy I remembered had always made it _fun. _The girl I remembered had been a total tease.

The number display started to flash. _11, 12, 13…_ It finally stopped at 23. Had she gone all the way to the top?

_22, 21, 20__…_ It was coming back down, but at a suspiciously slow rate. I stabbed the elevator button several times, gritting my teeth in impatience.

_Ding._

The steel door whooshed open, and I stepped in confidently, smirking from ear to ear.

I felt the smile disappear from my face when I noticed the control panel, half of which was glowing a cheery orange-pink.

_Damn it!_

Allie had clearly rigged the elevator so that it would have to stop at every floor on its way down. She must've selected 23 first, before pressing all the rest. This meant that she must've stopped at _any _one of the floors above the tenth.

I held the "close" button down for three seconds, and then pressed 11. It was a little trick I had learned from Matt to override the other floors. The elevator panel cleared. The only button that remained lit up was 11. _Success!_

Then I groaned. _Thirteen floors to search. How fun._

* * *

I breathed a sigh of relief. Mello had taken the bait.

I made my way down the stairs. I was definitely safe for now. Three minutes later, I found myself in the underground parking lot. It was brightly lit, unlike the inside of the building.

There were two neatly parked rows of identical, black cars. They all had the same license plate: _SPK 0824. _

I almost laughed out loud.

I approached the cars with caution, afraid I'd set off a random alarm. I squinted through each tinted window until I finally spotted a dark lump resembling my duffel bag sitting in the backseat.

"Come to mama," I whispered, unlocking Halle's car with the stolen key.

* * *

Near watched the screens eagerly. He hadn't been this entertained since Mello stole the notebook from the Japanese Police.

There were no cameras in the elevator, but Near knew what Allie had done.

He watched as the girl tore down the stairwell and into the parking lot, and he watched as Mello desperately ran back and forth on the floors above the SPK control room.

"Lidner," Near commented dryly, "how did Allie manage to get into your car?"

The former CIA agent jumped up in horror. She joined the boy in watching his friend squeeze herself into the trunk of the car, lowering the lid on top of her.

"I d-don't know…" Realization dawned on her. "Oh!" Halle patted down her trench coat, digging into the pockets.

"She stole my keys," Halle informed him, confirming his suspicions.

Near nodded and began to twist a lock of his hair around his finger, twirling it happily.

The minutes rolled by like marbles. Mello was nowhere near finding Ax. Near allowed himself a little smile. _His_ game would be so much better.

* * *

_Damn it! Where the hell is she?_

I had finally reached the twenty-third floor, and there was still no sign of Allie. It was eerily silent. Like the other twelve floors I had searched, it was dark and furniture-less.

I checked my phone. There were just five minutes left. I swore loudly; sweat was pouring out of every pore on my body. I couldn't believe I had wasted fifty minutes checking out all those floors.

I screamed when my cell suddenly vibrated in my hand. "Holy fucking shit!"

It was a text.

From Allie.

I had forgotten that I had her number. I instantly selected 'View Text.'

**"_5 mins, Mels."_**

My heart gave a funny little jump. I quickly texted back.

**"_Where __r u?"_**

Her response was immediate. **_"LOL."_**

I smiled, despite myself. I promptly accessed my phone's menu and activated the number tracking system that Matt had so helpfully installed on my cell. Within seconds, the message flashed across the screen: **_"300 feet below origin."_**

_The basement__! _Or more accurately, the underground parking lot.

I ran past the elevator and raced towards the stairwell. I flew down the flights of stairs and burst into the parking lot with two minutes to spare.

"Game over, Allie!" I hollered, stomping towards the sleek black cars.

I whipped out my cell and speed-dialed her number.

* * *

One minute.

"Game over, Allie!" I heard Mello's muffled voice. I squeezed my eyes shut and held my breath.

_How did he find me?_

I almost fainted when my cell started to tinkle. _Jingle Bells, Jingle B – _I muted the volume before it could do anymore damage. Maybe it _hadn't _been such a good idea to bait him.

* * *

Thirty seconds. For a moment there, my ears had caught a strain of Allie's ringtone. My eyes roamed over each car. _Allie must've picked the lock…or…_

And then it hit me.

"_Your little girlfriend ran into me."_

Allie had picked Halle's pockets. _Impressive._

I inspected the cars. Much to my chagrin, they were all identical. Which one was Halle's?

_Tick, tick, tick._

I punched the bulletproof windows in frustration. My phone vibrated once more and I flipped it open.

It was a text – from Near.

_How the hell did he get this number? _I wondered, irked. I opened the message.

**"_00:00:00. You lost the game, Mello."_**

* * *

"Ow!"

My head hit the roof of the trunk when Near's robotic voice suddenly filled the small space.

_"Congratulations, A."_

I gratefully popped the lid open and inhaled the fresh air. Mello was just a few feet away, staring at his phone in shock.

I jumped out of the car, clutching the duffel bag to my chest. I shut the trunk. "Mello?" I said softly.

Mello nodded in defeat. "You win," he said reluctantly.

I beamed up at him. He was scowling - no, _pouting_. How cute. "I know."

And I was stoked.

* * *

"I was _so_ close," I grumbled loudly as we entered the elevator lift. "So close!"

"Too bad," Allie said cheerfully, pressing the 10. Her face was flushed with delight, and there was a silly little grin on her face. It was…_adorable_.

"Do you usually play hide-and-seek in your underwear?" I leered at her. I still had a lot of leftover energy coursing through my system, and it was making me heady. My body was practically humming.

Allie furrowed her brow. "Only when there's a lot at stake. Are you usually a sore loser?" she retorted good-naturedly.

"It depends."

"On what?"

"On whether or not there's a consolation prize." I wiggled my eyebrows. She didn't seem to get it.

"As in chocolate?" Allie laughed and unzipped her bag. She pulled out one of my Caramilk bars.

"I believe that's mine." I plucked it out of her hand and hungrily unwrapped the chocolate.

"Well, _I_ believe I deserve it more." She snatched it back. Before I could protest, she bit off a huge chunk. A generous string of caramel dripped from her bottom lip.

I was completely transfixed by the sight. Mesmerized.

"Mmm," Allie sighed.

The sound of her pleasure sent an unexpected thrill up my toes, my spine, my fingers, my neck. The tease!

Unable to stop myself, I seized the younger girl. _Jesus Christ, Mello, _I imagined Matt saying, _do you have any kind of self-control? _Grinning, I bent my head down and crushed my mouth against Allie's lips, feverishly tonguing that small bit of sweet, amber syrup. Sugar _never_ tasted so good.

"What the - !"

Allie tore herself out of my grasp. I bit back my smirk and readied myself for the inevitable slap…

But it never came.

We both panted as we eyed each other in silence. My heart suddenly lurched. What if she hadn't liked it? What if I had been reading her signals wrong? What if I had made things irreversibly awkward? _Damn it, Mello, why don't you ever think things through?_

_Ding._


	21. Besting the Best: Round Two

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything but ****the Allie version of A.**

* * *

**Chapter 21: Besting the Best – Part Two**

* * *

My heart was hammering away at an unprecedented rate. I couldn't believe what was happening.

Mello was kissing me.

_Oh my God__, _he was kissing me!

I froze, unable to react as his warm tongue ran over my lips. His gloved fingers were digging tightly into my back, pressing me into his hard, lean body.

Wearing only my t-shirt and underwear shorts, I could feel _everything – _from the sharp zippers on his jacket to the insistent bulge in his laced-up leather pants.

"What the - !"

Dropping my bag and the chocolate bar, I pushed him away. I shrank back against the elevator wall. I could only stare at the blond in numb shock while my chest heaved for air.

_Ding._

We had reached the tenth floor. The door slid open.

Mello looked dazed, as if he had just woken up. He blinked, rubbing his suddenly half-lidded eyes.

"I-I'm sorry," he said in a low voice, shakily running his hands through his flaxen locks. "I don't know what came over me, I swear."

I couldn't stop trembling. My entire body was on fire, and I was aching in places I couldn't bring myself to think about. All of my nerves were shot. _Kiss him! Kiss him back!_

_But, _a little voice in the back of my mind whispered, _you've only known him for less than twenty-four hours. _

_H__e's known you his entire life, _another voice argued.

_You just got out of a relationship. You're in __no position to be kissing anyone right now._

_Mello's not just anyone._

_That's right. He's a killer._

_He's taken care of you._

_Mello is__ a man. He's almost twenty, for God's sake._

_He's your friend.__ He once saved your life!_

The voices continued to wage battle.

"Allie, say something." Mello looked at me pleadingly. His normally cool eyes were shining with guilt. My breath hitched. My mind buzzed as I struggled to find the appropriate words.

"Shit," he mumbled. Then, avoiding my gaze, Mello swept out of the elevator.

"Wait!"

I had finally managed to find my voice. Grabbing my bag, I hurried out of the lift and fell into step beside him.

* * *

_I've ruined everything. She's going to tell Near__. They caught that on camera. Everyone's going to have a great laugh at my expense. I'm nothing but a horny bastard. Fuck, why can't I ever control myself? _My mind unleashed a torrent of dreadful, jumbled up thoughts.

Once again, the voice of a certain redheaded gamer floated through my head.

"_She's all yours, Mello…"_

_I virtually forced myself onto her. __I'm no better than Beyond Birthday. _

"Wait!" Allie called out. The next thing I knew, she was sidling up beside me. I stole a swift glance to the left. She looked deep in thought. Her face was tinged an angry-looking red.

I winced, bracing myself for the worst.

That's why I almost toppled over when she suddenly stood on her toes and gently placed a kiss on my damaged cheek.

It was just a quick, innocent peck, but my innards instantaneously exploded.

"W-w-wh...?" I spluttered uncharacteristically, gazing down at the girl. Allie shyly smiled up at me, her face ablaze.

"No _hard _feelings," she said lightly. I automatically looked down and blushed.

"Sorry," I apologized gruffly. Allie just grinned and ducked her head down.

_What just happened?_

_You just had your first kiss, that's what happened. _I shoved my hands deep into my pockets and clenched my leathered fists into happy balls.

There were no fireworks, no choir of singing angels…

…no armed, suited men hooting in the background.

Just the two of us.

_And Near's cameras_. But at that moment, I didn't really give a damn.

In fact…

_I hope __he saw that, _I thought smugly. _In your face, Near!_

Allie and I walked back to the SPK communications room in a relaxed silence, our shoulders occasionally brushing.

* * *

"Welcome back. Congratulations, Allie."

Near's head of snowy-white hair was barely visible from behind his completed house of cards. I was astounded by the detail and immensity of the structure.

It was the United States Capitol.

It was complete with stairs, pillars, walls and gaps for windows. The dome was perfectly arched and rounded (how did he do that?), and a single, fancily folded card was precariously balanced on top to represent the Statue of Freedom.

Near carefully walked around the miniature Capitol. He stopped directly in front of me.

"You've bested one of the best," Near said, nodding curtly at Mello, who merely raised his brow. "Are you ready to face _the _best of the best?"

I could practically see the steam coming out of Mello's ears.

"I am," I said firmly, retrieving my clothes and shoes. I rapidly redressed myself. The control room was even colder than the rest of the building.

"Halle?"

The tall, fair woman was instantly by his side. "Yes, Near?"

"Please fetch the puzzles."

The hairs on the back of my neck immediately prickled. There was something peculiar about the way he'd said _puzzles._

"I should've known," Mello muttered beside me. Halle disappeared into the next room, and returned with two large glass frames, one in each hand. She set them down gently upon the floor. Near crouched down next to them.

They were plain white puzzles, save for the prominent Cloister Black fonts in both of their upper left-hand corners.

**L**.

**A**.

Near glided a finger across each of their clear surfaces. "These are from Wammy's House. We used to have races to see who could finish first – all four hundred pieces." He pushed the A-puzzle towards me. "Do you recognize it, Allie?"

I could detect an underlying urgency in his question, almost as if…

_Does he re__ally expect that this would jog my memory? _

Yet as I gazed down at the white puzzle, _my _puzzle, at the little _**A **_in the corner, I could feel something surging, churning within the deep recesses of my brain.

"I don't," I said awkwardly. "I can't remember anything."

Even as the words left my mouth, I could recall the voice of another, the voice of the faceless man who haunted my dreams…

"_But_ y_ou play with him every single day, Ax. He's a freak. Play with me, please?"_

"_Ax, why do you like him so much?"_

"_I have puzzles too! Come play with me, Ax!"_

…

I suppressed a shudder. What did Mello say his name was?

_Backup. Beyond Birthday._

There was an enigmatic glint in Near's murky dark eyes. The small boy began to dismantle the frame of the L-puzzle, and gestured for me to do the same with the A-puzzle. I sat down right beside him. Before long, all of the pieces lay scattered at our feet, as well as the wooden backings.

"Let's begin," Near said without so much as a warning.

I started sorting through the pieces at once. All four hundred of them swam before my eyes until my vision was just a blur of white, with a hint of black.

_This is going to take forever.__ I'm not…_

_I'm not going to make it._

I frantically gathered the pieces that had black markings on them. There were twenty-five in total. It only took a minute to build the **A**, but after that I could only stare at my puzzle with despair.

I stole a peek at Near. The white-haired boy was crouched with one knee up, and the other was splayed on the floor. His face was void of expression.

_Click. Click. Click. _His small fingers expertly placed the pieces on the wooden backing one by one, in a steady, unbroken rhythm.

With each diminutive _click _my heart sank more and more. I looked up hopelessly at Mello and Halle, who were quietly hovering above the scene. Gevanni had wandered over to watch as well.

I broke out into a nervous sweat before launching into the rest of the puzzle.

_Come on, __I've done this before. I can do it again, _I chanted to myself.

* * *

I fidgeted as I watched Allie. She seemed to be doing okay after her shaky start. But would that be enough to beat Near?

I turned my attention to my rival. I immediately narrowed my eyes. Something was wrong.

I could still remember the last time I had watched Near build a puzzle…

_..._

_Click.__ Click._

"_What's wrong, Roger?"_

_Click. Click._

"_L's dead."_

_Click.__ Click. My jaw dropped open in horror. Near didn't even flinch. _

"…_dead! Bu- but how? D-do you mean he was killed by Kira? __Is that it?" I shouted at the bespectacled man._

"_Mello – "_

_Click._

"_You mean he was going to get Kira the death penalty and now…he's dead? __Is that what you're telling me?" I shrieked._

_That was when Near overturned his completed puzzle.__ The tiny pieces rained onto the carpet like hail. "If you can't win the game, if you can't solve the puzzle, then you're just a loser." With that, Near promptly restarted the puzzle. Click._

_The__ methodical clicking nearly drove me to the brink of insanity. I wanted to kick him, throttle him…how could Near just sit there so calmly while the world as we knew it came crashing down around our ears?_

_Even as Roger told us that L hadn't been able to make a decision,__ Near was undisturbed. He merely proceeded with the rest of his puzzle._

_Click. For a long moment, they were the only sounds that filled the office._

"_Mello, Near…how about you both work together?" Roger suggested._

_I was stunned. I could only stare __in awe and revulsion as Near finished his puzzle, yet again. Then he looked up, and gave a tiny nod._

"_Agreed."_

…

That day, in Roger's office, Near had been able to complete the exact puzzle within a span of several minutes. One hundred pieces per minute. But now…

_Click. _One Mississippi. _Click. _Two Mississippi. _Click_. Three Mississippi.

One piece per second. Near was moving too slowly.

He was losing – _on purpose_. And I knew exactly why.

I just didn't know whether to rage or cheer.

I looked at Allie once more to check on her progress. As I'd predicted, she was now several paces ahead of Near. It was really happening. Near was losing. Intentionally.

But Allie didn't know that. It was clear that she was putting all her efforts into matching Near's rate. To the untrained eye, it really did look like they were neck to neck. Gevanni and Halle, who probably hadn't seen Near in this kind of action before, looked excited.

"My money's on Near," Halle hissed to Gevanni out of the corner of her mouth.

"But Mello's friend is almost finished," her fellow SPK partner whispered back.

"Well, Near is near."

Gevanni didn't even get a chance to reply to that awful pun. He didn't need to.

Allie clicked her final piece into place. "Done!" she yelled hoarsely, getting onto her feet. Her eyes were bright with triumph. At her pronouncement, Near quickly overturned his unfinished puzzle.

The only part that he had been missing was the **L**.

_How fitting. How appropriate._ It was undoubtedly a deliberate move on his part – since now...

"Congratulations once again, A. You really are L's... rightful heir."

Allie grabbed the small boy ecstatically. Before I knew what was happening, I was also yanked forward. I ended up crashing my jaw against Near's cold forehead. Allie laughed and squeezed us enthusiastically.

"No, we're _all_ L's heirs here," she said earnestly. "Let's work _together_ to catch Kira!"

I groaned half-heartedly. "Do we have to?"

"Oh come on, Mels. It's for the best, and you know it." There it was again. She called me _Mels. _And I liked it.

"I agree."

I did _not _want to be _this_ close to Near. I shuddered at our proximity. "Fine," I rasped out. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it."

"Aww, why not?"

"No one is forcing you to," Near stated calmly. He rested his face against Allie's shoulder. I had to resist the urge to reach out and punch his lights out.

"Ahem."

We all glanced at Halle in surprise. She looked at Allie pointedly. To my relief, she released us from her grasp.

"I'm so sorry, I almost forgot." Allie fished a key out of her pocket. "Thanks for letting me borrow it, Miss Lidner."

Halle's face was a blank mask as she took it back, dropping it into her coat pocket. Gevanni's shoulders shook with silent laughter. An atmosphere of energized contentment was lingering over us, almost as if there had been a major breakthrough in the case.

Then a thought occurred to me. It was almost disturbing how eager she was to jump right into the thick of things without knowing what she was really up against. Too eager. We had yet to mention the Shinigami, and how Kira killed. "It's not over just quite yet," I said seriously.

* * *

**A/N: I'd just like to take this time to give a personal shout-out to ****ALL of my wonderful reviewers so far: **xYourDearlyBeloved, Usagi323, Kira the Wolf, AnimeGirlZoe, Rainbow Rant, Dr. Who's There, I Love Bleach, TopGearGirl, eternalsnowfox, iHiatus, Toph13139 and anon!

Arigatō, xièxiè, merci, gracias, grazie! Those are the only ones I know.

**Thank****s also to those who have added this story to your alerts/favorites :)**


	22. Unite

**Disclaimer: ****This is just a fan fic, meaning anything may ensue. I only own the Allie version of A! **

* * *

**Chapter 22: Unite**

* * *

"It's not over just quite yet," Mello said ominously.

"Of course it isn't," I said, startled. "We haven't even started. So what do you guys want me to do? Spy on Misa? Because I can – "

Mello shook his head. I stopped mid-sentence and looked at him curiously. "What is it, Mello?"

"To be honest, I didn't think you'd get this far. You've proven yourself," he declared. For some reason, he shot Near a spiteful look. The white-haired boy didn't even bat an eye. "But you still have a lot to learn."

"I got lucky," I said modestly. It was true. I had beaten both of them by a few measly seconds.

"You sure did. Near never loses."

"There's a first time for everything," Near droned. He trained his gaze on me. "Such as working with Mello."

_Thank you, _his eyes told me. I was mystified. Near seemed to like Mello – a lot.

Mello scowled at Near's words. His face was lined with cold fury. "I'm not doing it for _you_," he said scathingly.

"Is Mello doing it for Allie?"

A profound, awkward silence followed his words. I blushed horribly, thankful for the room's dim, blue lighting. Mello's face was unreadable.

"I'm doing this for L," he muttered.

"You've taken drastic measures that L wouldn't have approved of, Mello."

Mello snarled in warning, like a lion protecting its pride. "Shut up, Near. How would you know? I've gotten us this far, haven't we? If it weren't for _me_, you wouldn't have found out about the Shinigami. If it weren't for _me_, you wouldn't have known about the notebook's fake rules. If it weren't for _me_ – "

"Wait," I interrupted, confused. "What the hell are you talking about?" _Shinigami? Notebook? Fake rules?_

Mello took a deep breath. "Allie, have you ever given any thought as to how Kira kills?"

My eyes widened in wonder. "Not really," I said uneasily. "I know it can't be natural, but other than that… I have absolutely no idea how he does it."

"You're right. It's supernatural," Mello deadpanned. My skin began to crawl. Everyone, including Halle and Gevanni, were looking at me as if they were waiting to gauge my reaction.

"You said _Shinigami_, right?" I whispered. "Isn't that Japanese for _God of Death_?"

"That's right."

I was failing to see the connection, but I had a feeling that I was about to find out.

"How is this related to Kira? Is Light Yagami a Shinigami?" I guessed wildly.

"No." Mello hesitated. "He kills people by writing their names into a notebook, which was brought into this world by a Shinigami."

I could feel the blood drain out of my face. I looked at Near for confirmation. His dark eyes betrayed no deception or emotion as he spoke. "It's true. There's one at the Japanese Taskforce's headquarters as we speak – a Shinigami as well as a Death Note."

_A Death God's notebook.__ How absurd. _My mind was reeling. It was strange trying to grasp the existence of Shinigami while being surrounded by two of the most brilliant minds in the world, two elite agents, and a multitude of high-tech televisions and computers.

"Why didn't you tell me this earlier?" I cried, trying to keep my bewilderment to a minimum.

"You wouldn't have believed me, Allie!" Mello said sharply. "Even now, you could only accept it as the truth when Near said it was so." He sounded offended. My cheeks burned with shame. He was dead on.

However, there was still one glaring question that seared into my mind, above everything else.

"But what about God…?" I trailed off. I was afraid of the answer.

Mello's hand automatically flew to the crucifix that was just peeking out from underneath his fur-lined jacket. "What about God?" the ex-Mafia challenged.

Of all the things I'd endured within the last twenty-four hours, the mere sight of the blond, dressed from head to toe in sleek danger and stroking his rosary with one gloved hand as if it were a precious lifeline, utterly overwhelmed me. The irony of it just took my breath away.

_No__thing_ could've prepared me for the wave of sheer emotion that overcame me.

"Excuse me," I choked out, "I gotta go to the bathroom."

With that, I flew out of the room.

* * *

I openly gawked at Allie's mad dash out the doors, leaving the rest of us staring after her in surprise.

Near broke the silence. "She's emotional like you, Mello."

I wheeled around to face him. "Is that a problem, Near?" I sneered a bit defensively.

"She's different. She's changed," he commented, sounding as though he was delivering the daily weather report. I could detect an underlying irritation in his voice.

"Maybe you should've thought of that before you threw the game," I snapped.

Halle inhaled sharply. "Near, you lost on purpose? But why?"

"I wanted to work with the both of them," he answered bluntly. "Although I _was_ hoping Ax would've retained her IQ of 180."

"What did you expect?" I said scornfully. "She's lost a good chunk of her childhood!"

"That shouldn't have affected her core intelligence."

"Oh please," I scoffed. "You know nothing about _people _or _feelings_."

He fixed me with a creepy, penetrating stare. "I know she must like you. Does Mello…like her in that way?"

I ignored his question, bemused. _Did he NOT see what happened in the elevator? _I automatically looked up at the TV monitors, and for the first time I noticed that while there were live feeds focused on the elevator doors on each floor, there wasn't any coming from inside the lift itself.

Relief washed through me. So he hadn't seen me lose control like a sex-starved adolescent after all. Near had only seen _Allie_ kiss _me_, outside in the hallway.

"We don't have cameras installed in either of the bathrooms," he said, misinterpreting my sweeping gaze.

"I wasn't looking for the bathrooms," I said, gritting my teeth.

Near smiled faintly and abruptly switched subjects. "Mello, what does Allie know about Misa Amane?"

I was instantly alert. "I told her that she is, or at least _was_, the Second Kira."

"And how does she know Misa Amane?" Near inquired.

"They're working together on a musical," I said curtly. Some part of me loathed the idea of sharing information with Near – it made me feel diminished. But another part of me told me it was the right thing to do. "Amane was invited by the Los Angeles Coast High drama teacher to help direct the show."

Near appeared intrigued. "What is it?"

"_Mulan_. Matt saw the script."

His face softened, and he began to fiddle with his hair. "That's interesting. That was her favorite fairy tale back at the orphanage."

A crystal-clear image of a long-forgotten library flashed through my mind, and I instinctively recalled the endless nights I spent there working my ass off, surrounded by books and papers and computers, only to come second…

"It's a small world, isn't it?" Near's voice broke through my thoughts. "So tell me, how did you find her?" He stared up at me with a keen expression.

I wasn't sure how to answer that. "Downtown in L.A.," I finally said. "Allie was, ah, trying to steal my motorcycle."

Near didn't look fazed at all. "Why?"

"I don't know," I answered truthfully as the same thought occurred to me. Allie never did finish explaining why.

Just then, all of the TV and computer screens in the room flickered, and the images were replaced by Commander Rester's face.

The commander's voice filled the room. "Near, everything is set and ready to go. I'll start with To-Oh University as you requested."

Near strolled over to the intercoms. "Thank you, Commander Rester," he thanked the man briskly. "Please let me know what you find as soon as possible."

Rester nodded and disappeared. The monitors changed back to their previous state of surveillance.

"We'll have a better chance of finding the whereabouts of the new L if we keep a close eye on Misa Amane," Near said thoughtfully.

I restrained the urge to sigh. "Matt's doing that as we speak," I informed him coolly.

"It won't be enough. If you're not careful, she can slip away without notice."

"How dare you," I growled. "Matt's not an idiot!"

Near frowned. "I didn't say that. I'm only suggesting that we should take Allie up on her offer to spy on Misa Amane, under the pretence of her extracurricular activity. No harm would come to her if Allie already knows her personally and can easily access her."

I pondered over this for a moment. "That's true," I admitted grudgingly. I glanced up at the screens again. "Oh look, she's back."

Allie was walking quickly, as if she were being chased by a ghost.

"Gevanni, can you let her in?"

The doors immediately opened and Allie rushed in. Her nose was slightly pink. I could tell right away that she'd been crying.

* * *

I felt like an idiot for sitting on a toilet and tearing up from the discovery that Shinigami existed.

"Just when I thought things couldn't get any crazier," I murmured, wiping my tears. To say I was shocked was an understatement. I was mentally, emotionally, _spiritually _drained.

Just like the rest of the world. _But on the other hand…_

I could feel a tentative smile tug the corners of my mouth as I recalled the way Mello had protectively touched his rosary. Judging by Mello's reaction, God wasn't dead just yet.

"Allie! Don't be such a baby," I scolded myself, getting off the toilet and exiting the stall. I went to the sink to splash some cold water onto my face. _The existence of Shinigami doesn't change anything._ _They can't be real gods if they need notebooks to kill. God's still out there, somewhere._

I dried my face with my sleeves, and left the bathroom. The halls seemed even darker and quieter than before. Spooked, I practically sprinted back to the SPK control room. The moment I reached the doors, they swooshed right open.

I skidded to a stop in front of Mello and Near, who were staring at me, perplexed.

"What's wrong?" Mello exclaimed as I struggled to catch my breath.

I blushed. "Oh, it's nothing. So where were we?"

* * *

Shortly after Near and I debriefed Allie, Halle presented me with an NYPD badge.

"You're going to need this," she said crisply, "to board the plane with your gun."

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. I pocketed the fake shield, feeling like I owed Near once more.

"Near," I finally said. "I told you last week that some of the rules in the notebook were fake. Have you figured out which ones they are?"

"Yes. I've also discussed this with the second L. We both _agreed _that it was the 13-day rule."

I smirked. "That's right," I confirmed. "And I'll tell you the other one now. The rule about destroying the notebook is also a fake."

Near nodded. "I thought as much. Thank you for your help, Mello. Good-bye, Allie."

I flinched. "Whatever," I muttered.

"Bye, Near." Allie put a hand on my rival's shoulder. "It was nice meeting you."

"It's good to have you back. Please take care." Near's eyes danced with amusement. I blinked to make sure that I wasn't imagining things. The next second, his face was completely blank again.

It was almost nine in the morning, New York time, when we boarded the plane to return to Los Angeles.

This time, I let Allie have the window seat.

* * *

Halle knew she had to approach the issue delicately. She knew, however, that Gevanni was thinking the exact same thing.

"Near," she said gently, "Do you really think she'll be of assistance?"

The boy looked at her solemnly. His eyes were like dark pools of mercury. "Of course. I need all the help I can get. I'm no fool. L couldn't defeat Kira alone, and neither can any of us."

Halle bowed her head respectfully, lowering her tawny eyes. "I understand."

_I'__m glad. United, Kira doesn't stand a chance against them. _Yet, something within her twisted nastily at the thought of the teenager that had just waltzed into their lives. There was a dull pain inside her breast, an unfamiliar aching.

Halle had noticed the possessiveness in Mello's eyes whenever he looked at the girl. She had noticed the silly smirk on his face when he was counting down the seconds for their game of hide-and-seek. She had noticed his schoolboy reaction, on camera, when Allie kissed him.

The woman pushed aside her unprofessional thoughts. _My only desire is to capture Kira, nothing or no one else. _

She should be thanking Allie for bringing Mello and Near together, not envying her.

* * *

I was exhausted.

I was running on just three hours of sleep, and I was hungry. I hadn't eaten anything since last night's lasagna except for half a chocolate bar. To my dismay, the flight was only serving juice.

"Mello," I whispered to my companion. "Can I have the rest of that?"

Mello was halfway through a brand new bar. He arched a perfectly-shaped blond brow at me. "The rest of what?"

He shoved the rest of the chocolate into his mouth before I could protest.

"Ugh," I whimpered. My stomach started to growl. I was too famished to be embarrassed.

"I'm just kidding." He smirked before fishing out another bar from his pocket.

"Thanks," I said gratefully. I ripped the wrapper right off.

On a whim, I tilted my head and gave Mello a swift peck on the cheek. This time, it was on the side without his scar. His skin was firm, smooth and _warm_…

"A-Allie…" Mello stammered. My heart fluttered with delight when his complexion turned a rosy pink.

"Yes?" I said timidly, biting into the chocolate.

He shifted his body so that he was leaning forward into my face.

"What's it going to take to get another one?" Mello murmured, his blue-green eyes glittering. I squirmed excitedly under his seductive gaze. My butt felt like it was melting right into my seat.

_What are you doing? Stop flirting with him! _Another voice chimed in. _Go ahead, you're single now!_

I smiled coyly. "Find out yourself."

The blond grinned wickedly. "Oh, I will. We have the next five hours for that."

* * *

**A/N: ****When Allie says "God wasn't dead just yet" she's referring to the famous quote by Friedrich Nietzsche: "God is dead!" **

A shout-out goes to xYourDearlyBeloved who was first to review the last chapter! I recommend checking out her awesome dilogy; the sequel even comes with colored drawings/title pages.


	23. Never Have I Ever

**A/N: I love you guys to death!**** So much that you deserve a bit of fluff in this chapter. Enjoy! **

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own Death Note, but I do own Allie – the OC version of A.**

* * *

**Chapter 23: Never Have I Ever**

* * *

"Let's play Twenty Questions," I suggested mischievously.

Although she looked tired, Allie's face lit right up. "Awesome! I love that game."

We spent the next little while going over the rules. At my request, I was the questioner for the first round and Allie was the answerer.

It was best two out of three. We were playing for stakes. _Very_ high stakes.

"No cheating," I warned her sternly, "or the consequences will be severe."

"Oh yeah?" Allie laughed devilishly. "You're not going to know."

"I'm a _damn_ good human lie detector," I told her, curling my lips in mock-challenge.

"And I'm a damn good actress," Allie retorted, dramatically flicking her long hair behind her shoulder. "But if you don't trust me, I'll just write it down. Do you have a pen on you?"

"I think so." I pawed through my pockets and pulled out a black ballpoint pen. "Here it is."

She took it and quickly scribbled something into the palm of her hand. I narrowed my eyes. _Four words._ "Okay. The category is _mythology_. Ask away."

"Hmm," I intoned. "One: is it Greek? Two: is it a deity? Three: is it a mortal?"

Allie grimaced. "Oh crap. You ask good questions. Yes, no and no."

I grinned at her. That narrowed it down quite well. "You chose a pretty obvious category," I said smugly. "Four: does or did it ever exist?"

"No, it's just a legend," she huffed.

My smile grew wider. "Five: is it from the heroic age?"

"Yeah…" Allie looked surprised.

"Don't look so shocked," I snickered. "I am a genius, after all." I rubbed my chin, pretending to think. "Six: is it an important part of the Trojan War?"

Her eyebrows knitted in frustration. "Yes, it is." My pulse quickened.

"It's the Golden Apple, isn't it?" I crowed. "The Golden Apple of Discord. Let me see your hand!"

Allie groaned, flashing me her open palm. Sure enough, _Golden Apple of Discord_ was written across her skin in a small, neat script.

"How did you get that so fast?" she exclaimed, handing me the pen. "Most people either guess the Trojan Horse, or they don't know the whole name!"

"If you haven't noticed, I'm not like most people," I replied cheekily. I celebrated by taking out another Caramilk bar from my pocket. _These are really starting to grow on me, _I realized as I chewed.

Allie's eyes bulged. "How many things do you keep in there?" she asked, eyeing my red coat with astonishment.

"A lot," I answered vaguely. "Ready for round two? I'll go easy on you."

Allie gave a tiny snort and crossed her arms. "I don't need _anyone_ to go easy on me."

My mind automatically flashed back to Near. I shrugged off my feeling of unease and jotted down _sheep _onto a napkin. I added _ovis aries_, just in case. I smirked at my little joke.

"Alright," I announced. "The category is _animals_."

* * *

"One: is it a mammal?" I immediately asked.

"Mhm," the blond mumbled through a mouthful of chocolate.

I let out a groan. There were hundreds, _thousands_, of possibilities. _Knowing Mello, he probably picked some obscure species I've never even heard of_. I mentally chuckled, marveling at how much I was enjoying myself. _I haven't had this much fun in ages. All Rick wanted to do was make out, surf, make out some more, go to the movies, make out there…not that I had a problem with it before._

"Two: does it live on land? Three: is it a carnivore? Four: is it bigger than a car?" I asked carefully.

Mello swallowed his chocolate and smiled mysteriously. "Yes, no and no."

"Five: does it have hair?"

He furrowed his brows. "No, it doesn't."

"Then it has fur…" I muttered my deduction.

Mello's mouth twitched. "Technically, fur and hair are the same thing. They only differ in usage of the terms."

"So are you saying that your animal doesn't have any hair or fur?"

"Is that your sixth question?"

"Hell, no." I struggled to think. "I don't know what else to ask!"

Mello chortled. "Well, you still have fifteen chances. You can make your guesses now, if you want."

I bit my lip. "The conditions are extremely unfavorable."

"Not for me." The blond's blue-green eyes twinkled with pleasure.

I sighed. "Okay. Here it goes. American Hairless Terrier, Mexican Hairless Dog, Chinese Crested Hairless, Peruvian Hairless, Hairless Khala, Canadian Sphynx, Don Sphynx, Peterbald, Ukranian Levkoy…" I paused for breath.

Mello looked ready to burst.

"That's all I know. Is it any of those?"

"No," he drawled triumphantly. "All wrong. Besides, hairless breeds do actually have hair."

I threw up my hands. "Fine, I give up! Damn it! It's probably some exotic animal I've never even h – "

Mello waved his napkin in front of my face. I snatched it and read the word written inside. _Sheep. Ovis aries._ I smacked my forehead.

"Wool," the ex-Mafia happily informed me, "is neither hair nor fur. I looked it up once on Wikipedia."

"Wikipedia isn't a reliable source," I pointed out. "But you're right."

"Ha, I win. That was easy." Mello tilted his head towards me, deliberately licking his lips.

"I shouldn't have agreed to this game," I grumbled good-naturedly. My heart rapidly thumped against my ribcage as he leaned closer and closer. _Oh geez._ "I'm choosing the next one."

"I don't know what you're complaining about," the blond boy said huskily. "Losing isn't all that bad for _you_, is it?" With that, he cupped my face with his gloved hands. For the second time that day, he pressed his firm, warm lips onto mine. Only this time, it was slow and gentle.

My mind went deliriously blank as Mello claimed his tiny victory. I opened my mouth ever so slightly to match his rhythm, and as our tongues touched tentatively, we tasted the same chocolate on the other's breath.

It only lasted a few seconds, so I was left wanting more. Mello leaned back into his seat. He closed his eyes and murmured, "Killing time is _so_ much fun."

I blushed furiously and looked away, hiding my goofy smile. If someone had told me that I'd get over Rick before the weekend was up, I would've told them to dunk their head in the Pacific.

* * *

_I haven't had this much fun in ages_. The realization struck me as I observed Allie out of the corner of my eyes. Her forehead was wrinkled in concentration.

"Have you ever played _Never Have I Ever_?" she eventually piped up.

I shook my head, interested.

"It's a great way to expose other people's dirty little secrets." Allie winked at me.

"Oh?" I bent forward, placing my elbows on the armrest between us. "How do you play?"

"Well…" Allie broke her Caramilk bar into separate squares and placed them onto her napkin. She gestured for me to do the same. Mystified, I added five more squares to the pile. "It's usually a drinking game, but this will do."

"Drinking, huh? I didn't know you had it in you."

Allie coughed. "I've had my fair share of parties. Anyway, here's how we'll play it. I'll say something that I've never done, and if you've done it, you take one piece. We take turns until all the chocolate is gone. The loser is the person with the most pieces."

I nodded a bit apprehensively. "Okay…"

She cast me a concerned look. "We don't have to play if you're worried about something, Mello."

"No," I said hurriedly, despite myself. "I…I'm an open book. Go ahead."

"Okay," Allie said cheerfully. "Never have I ever smoked weed." She looked at me expectantly.

"Never have I ever smoked weed," I repeated.

Her eyebrows shot up. "But…really? I mean…" Allie stuttered, clearly mortified.

"Chocolate is my only high," I told her, as if it explained everything. The truth was that no one ever offered it to me before. No one ever dared to, anyway. The Mafia had understood that I was a genius, their criminal mastermind. My brain was their weapon, and they needed it to function properly, 24/7.

She giggled. "I know how you feel," she sighed. "Chocolate's the best. Especially Lindt chocolate."

I subconsciously found myself filing away that bit of information.

"Never have I ever cheated on a test," I announced. Allie shook her head.

"Never have I ever slept in the nude," she countered.

I took the first square. Allie turned red, and I winked at her. "It's very comfortable. Never have I ever been arrested."

"Neither have I, _Officer,_" she said, casting me a significant look. At the moment, the SPK's fake NYPD badge was digging uncomfortably into my thighs, right underneath my trusty gun.

"Good girl," I purred at her.

Allie blushed. "Never have I ever been to a strip club."

I took a second square, and Allie's mouth twitched. "It was for an assignment. This asshole owed my boss some money, and I had to take his head in for payment," I explained as quietly as possible.

She turned positively green.

"My turn," I said abruptly, wanting to change the subject. I knew exactly what to ask. "Never have I ever tried to jack someone's bike."

Allie sighed with exasperation. "That's not fair," she said crossly, taking a square of Caramilk.

"Life's not fair," I told her. "That reminds me. You never did finish telling me why."

Allie's face turned pale. "Oh yeah. That." She looked out the window, a sad expression flitting across her face. "I…I guess I just lost control for a moment," she muttered, looking down at her piece of chocolate. "Have you ever been so upset about something that you'd do anything to get your mind off of it? Even reckless, crazy, idiotic...suicidal things?"

I was stunned. I wasn't expecting that. "I've been reckless pretty much my whole life, Allie. But not...suicidal. Uh. So what…what happened? With you? Does it have something to do with your…ex?"

Allie blinked rapidly, confirming my suspicions. "Why did he break up with you?" I couldn't resist.

She chose to answer me indirectly. "Never have I ever had sex," she sighed. _Oh._ Her face was ablaze as she waited for my reaction.

I didn't budge. The pile of Caramilk squares remained at seven. "Don't worry." I patted her knee and snorted. "Neither have I. God, kids these days. Horny, whiny brats, all of them."

Allie silently laid her head down on my shoulder. We sat like that for the longest time, game forgotten. I didn't move, not even when my right arm began to tingle.

* * *

As we continued to soar through the slate-blue skies, my mind unwillingly drifted to the Robinsons.

A wave of guilt swept through me. My adoptive parents were bound to be waiting for me back home in L.A. I bit my lip, feeling my chest fill with a sickening anxiety. _I should've left them a note, at the very least. What kind of daughter am I? How am I going to face them when I get back? How am I going to tell them that I'm trying to catch Kira?_

Mello's voice broke through my thoughts. "Are you alright, Allie?"

"I'm fine," I sighed, taking my head off his shoulder and looking away instead. I didn't want him to see the tears that threatened to escape my eyes. "I'm just really worried about my parents."

"Oh." He paused. "They seem like good people."

I nodded. "They are," I whispered, clenching my fists. "But they're really protective of me."

Mello surveyed me for a moment before responding, "I don't blame them."

My face flushed. "I hope they'll forgive me," I mumbled.

To my surprise, he gently pried my hands open. When I loosened my grip, he began to trace the lifelines on each of my palms. My arms went pleasantly numb.

"Relax, Allie. If they truly care about you, they _will_ forgive you," Mello said softly. I glanced at him, taken aback by the tenderness in his voice. His eyes clouded over, as if he were recalling a painful memory.

"Mello?"

He took a deep breath, and glanced at our surroundings. Everyone was either fast asleep or preoccupied with the movie.

"It was exactly five years ago when I ran away from Wammy's," Mello began in a low voice.

My mouth went dry at the realization that he was finally going to tell me how he ended up in the Mafia.

* * *

"It was exactly five years ago when I ran away from Wammy's," I murmured. "I couldn't stay there any longer, especially not after Roger told us that L had died without properly choosing a successor."

I looked at Allie, whose eyes were wide with dread. "After you and Beyond…" I struggled to find the right word.

"Died," Allie supplied in a hollow voice.

"Yes. After you both _died_, Near and I were next in line. He was the clear choice. No matter what I did or how hard I tried, I always came in second place." I continued to stroke Allie's palms, forcing myself to remain calm.

"At this time, L was in Japan investigating Kira. Kira killed him before he had the chance to pick between us. Naturally, I longed to avenge his death, but not enough to cooperate with Near as Roger, the orphanage's caretaker, suggested. I _hated _his guts."

Allie shifted uncomfortably. "Do you still hate him now?" she asked hesitantly.

I opened my mouth to say _yes_, but for some reason I found myself unable to answer. True, we had made progress in New York. But still, Near was Near.

"I don't know," I said gruffly.

She gave me a small smile, and I knew I had said the right thing. "So what happened next?"

"I…I just lost it. I went straight to my room and grabbed my backpack. I had to get out of there. I was turning fifteen in two weeks anyway, and it was time to live out my own way. But…I didn't even get a chance to say good-bye to…" My throat constricted as I recalled my impulsive departure.

"…Matt." Allie finished my sentence for me. I nodded, gnawing at the inside of my cheek.

"I left without saying bye to my best friend. I left England, and came here. My mind was set on joining the Mafia, the number one underground organization in America. It was the only way _I_ could get to Kira. But the pain worsened with every person I killed, every family I tore apart. Do you get what I'm saying, Allie?"

She nodded mutely.

"I blew people's brains out. Heads rolled. I kidnapped men and…" I was breathing hard. "…and took hostage of Yagami's sister in exchange for the notebook."

I hadn't told her about Sayu yet. When Near and I debriefed Allie back at the SPK headquarters, we had told her almost everything – except for that. I flinched, expecting Allie to pull away from me with disgust, but when I looked up, the only thing I could see in her eyes was…acceptance. There was also sadness, but it was better than anger and hatred.

_Just like Matt_.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.

"Matt found me, after I blew up our hideout two and a half weeks ago. He nursed me back to health. I didn't deserve his forgiveness. I abandoned him, and there's just so much blood on my hands…" I whispered.

My heart nearly stopped when Allie slowly tugged off my leather gloves, exposing my bare hands to her for the first time. Unlike my face, they were smooth and unmarked.

"Is that why you wear these all the time, except for in the shower?" she whispered, tucking the gloves into the front pocket of her purple sweater. She squeezed my hands gently.

"You're so cheesy," I replied. "I like it, though." I laid my head down on top of hers. _Herbal shampoo_, I thought faintly.

Once again, we basked in silence, which stretched out into minutes, hours…Allie had drifted to sleep, but I was wide awake, extremely conscious of how lucky I was to have such good friends, and to be alive, even if my soul was damned.

We landed at LAX just after twelve, Los Angeles time.

* * *

**I HOPPED OFF MY PLANE AT LAX, WITH A DREAM AND MY CARDIGAN…**

**No, I'm just kidding. Although it IS a good song to dance to.**

Shout-out goes out to **xYourDearlyBeloved**, who was first to review the last chapter! If you're into really really good Mello/Near yaoi, check out her latest chapter in her sequel, "Taking Chances!" It's quite entertaining ;)

A special mention to new reviewers MasaJeevas and ShadowedSerenity! And of course, the rest of you wonderful reviewers (alphabetical order, lulz): AnimeGirlZoe, Dr. Who's There, eternalsnowfox, I Love Bleach, Kira the Wolf, Rainbow Rant, TopGearGirl and Usagi323!


	24. Enemy Territory

**A/N: ****We're back in Los Angeles now! This chapter contains coarse language.**

**Disclaimer: This is just a fan fiction. I don't own Death Note or any of the brands mentioned.**

* * *

**Chapter 24: Enemy Territory**

* * *

"Oi!"

A familiar voice rang over the clamor and din of the crowd at the arrival level. Allie and I pushed through the throng of reuniting families to come face to face with an inconspicuous brunette, who was dressed in a leather ensemble and sporting a large pair of sunglasses.

I felt my jaw drop at the sight of him. "Are those _my _clothes?"

The brunette whipped off the shades, revealing his deep blue eyes.

"Yeah. They look so much better on me though, don't you think?"

Allie looked equally as surprised. "Hi…Matt?" she greeted him, taking in his brand new appearance.

I had texted him just before we left New York. I informed him that he'd been spotted with me last night, and to be careful when he came to pick us up from the airport. He obviously took my warning to heart.

I studied him, half-dismayed and half-proud of what I was seeing. Matt had darkened his vibrantly scarlet hair to a chestnut brown that was just a touch lighter than Allie's. His tresses were slightly – only slightly – shorter, and he had gotten contacts to disguise his rare green eyes. And most impressive of all, his goggles were nowhere in sight.

The former redhead eyed Allie with exaggerated curiosity. "Hello, stranger. Have we met?"

Allie didn't miss a beat. "No, I'm sure I'd remember a face like yours." Although her voice was light with humor, her face was visibly drawn with worry.

Matt shot me a look. Even with the contacts, I could clearly read his expression. _So, what happened?_

"Let's go," I said firmly. "We're not safe here. We'll talk in the car."

The three of us strolled through the terminal and out of the airport without a second glance back.

* * *

Matt lit up before slipping into the driver's seat, slamming the door shut beside him. I got into the backseat, slinging my bag onto my lap, while Mello got into the front. Before I knew it, Matt had gunned the engine and we were roaring off.

"Are there any new developments?" Mello asked his best friend.

Matt shook his head, hitting the accelerator. "Not really. Mogi and Amane are out shopping right now, though. I saw them leave her apartment by foot. They're not flying the coop anytime soon."

"Good," Mello said, satisfied.

"How was New York, Allie?" Matt called, quickly glancing back at me.

I smiled. "It was sick." I caught Mello's eyes in the rearview mirror.

"What do you think of Near?"

Mello coughed, and I broke eye contact with his reflection. "He's cool," I said vaguely.

"Yeah." Matt flicked his cigarette out the window as we sped down the highway. "He's a cool little dude. Too bad Mello hates him so much. We'd make a great team."

I could practically hear the vein in Mello's forehead throbbing.

"Haven't you heard? We're working together now," I announced, beaming. From the front, Mello made a strangled noise in his throat as he shook a fist at me.

"Is that so?" Matt asked incredulously. "And what do _you _mean by _we_?"

"All of us."

Matt swerved to change lines. We were approaching the next exit. "Whoa! How did that happen?"

"It was their idea," Mello explained in a clipped tone. "I just went along with it."

The brunette mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like _soft. _Mello bared his teeth at him.

"I'll be helping you spy on Misa Amane," I hurriedly added. "I see her almost every weekday at play rehearsal."

"Ah yes, she's the assistant director, isn't she?"

"Something like that," I said, rolling my eyes. "She's also my understudy. In the event that something should happen to me, Misa will be taking over the leading role."

An ominous silence followed my pronouncement. I felt the blood drain out of my face as I realized what I had just said.

"You're not sure whether or not she's still the Second Kira, right?" I squeaked.

Mello nodded slowly. "There's still a chance that she still owns a notebook. That's what you'll have to find out. But you shouldn't have to worry. Not even she's stupid enough to kill an innocent person that she personally knows," he assured me.

"That's true," I sighed, breathing normally.

"So," Matt said seriously. "Where do you want to go now? Back to our place, or…?"

_That's a good question_, I thought with a heavy heart. I visualized the Robinsons' panic-stricken faces when I'd told them I was flying off to New York. "I should go home and clear things up with my parents first," I said quietly.

"Understood." For the next fifteen minutes, the only sounds were the hum of the gas and the consistent, soothing whine of the Camaro's wheels. Highway lights soon gave way to palm trees as a mass of upper-class suburban neighborhoods gradually came into view.

* * *

Rick Benson was extremely pissed off. Allie was _ignoring_ him.

No one ignored Rick Benson, surfer extraordinaire.

His older brother, Robbie, had pestered him to no end yesterday about dumping her. According to Robbie, Allie was a good catch. She was smart, she was an aspiring actress, and she was probably going to end up rich and famous one day. After all, they were in Los Angeles. Who cares if she didn't put out right away?

Robbie wore him down until Rick decided to message Allie an apology on Facebook.

She hadn't replied, although he knew that she went on every single night. He even checked MSN and Skype, but she was appearing offline. When Rick finally tried her cell, he only got the message: "_Sorry, this number cannot be reached. Please try again later."_

It was as if she had vanished off the face of the earth.

"No one ignores Rick Benson," the perfectly tanned, sandy-haired male repeated to himself, yanking on a blue Hollister tank top. He checked his waterproof watch. It was almost one o'clock. He groaned out loud. It was a gorgeous Saturday afternoon, compared to yesterday's rainfall. Despite being just three days away from the start of December, Los Angeles, of course, was as sunny as ever. He gazed longingly out the window, which overlooked the beach (what else?).

"I'll be back before dinner," Rick yelled over his shoulder as he bounded out of his brother's house.

Allie's neighborhood was just a few streets down and a ten minute jog away. _I've got to talk some sense into her. She'll forgive me. No, I'll be the one doing the forgiving. Maybe I'll make her beg for me to take her back. If she wants to play hard to get, I'll just have to play harder. _

Rick Benson was so wrapped up in his thoughts as he jogged that he barely noticed his surroundings. He was only semi-aware of the cherry-red Camaro that flashed by.

* * *

We pulled into the driveway, stopping next to the Robinsons' dark blue van. Allie was fidgeting anxiously in the backseat.

"We're coming with you," I offered. Allie nodded in agreement. I looked at Matt pointedly, who had just pulled out his Nintendo DS.

"Oh fine," he pouted, tossing the handheld into the glove compartment. We all got out of the car and trailed behind Allie to the front door, who hesitated before ringing the doorbell.

It hadn't even been five seconds when the door suddenly flung wide open. Monica and John Robinson stood in the doorway, their eyes drowsy with exhaustion. They looked as though they had aged ten years, I noticed with a guilty pang. As soon as they realized their adoptive daughter standing in front of them, they gasped.

"Allie!" her mother shrieked, pouncing on her. Allie dropped her bag and returned Monica's embrace.

John, on the other hand, was eyeing me and Matt with a wary expression. "Come on in," he said tiredly, stepping aside to make room for us. We stepped over the threshold and into the foyer, shutting the door behind us. I immediately descended upon my previously abandoned military boots, which I was pleased to see were just as I'd left them.

"Mom," Allie began, "I am so sorry – "

Monica waved the apology away. "You don't need to be sorry for anything, dear. Come here, I've baked you and your friends some treats!"

Allie's adoptive mother ran out of the foyer and into the kitchen. John gestured for the three of us to follow. I was stunned. Allie's face mirrored my own astonishment.

Along the way, Matt paused to study the family portraits that decorated the walls. "Wow, you really _are _Alternative," he muttered, staring at the 12-year-old version of Allie before wandering into the kitchen.

Monica Robinson was sitting at the table with a tray of chocolate chip cookies.

"Mom, what - ?"

Matt snagged a cookie. I scowled at him, and he shrugged as if to say, _I'm hungry. Shoot me._

"If you're here to tell us you want to go and find Kira, we accept that." Allie's mother gave me a teary look. "Mello…keep her safe, okay? We promised Mr. Wammy we'd keep her safe."

I nodded curtly, hiding my shock.

John cleared his throat. "It was wrong of us to lie to you, Allie. We thought it was for your own good."

"So you don't really know what happened to my biological parents?"

Both of the Robinsons flinched at her blunt question. "No. Mr. Wammy never told us. A car accident was the simplest cover."

"I see." A long silence filled the room.

"What now?" Allie's adoptive father tentatively asked. "What about school? What about your play? Are you...moving out?" At this, John's eyes darted between me and Matt. Despite the grimness of the situation, I smirked inwardly.

"Because we're more than willing to, you know…do you need anything? You can take the car…no, we need that for work…oh wait, we can just take the bus…oh, and food, what about food?" Monica blabbed incoherently.

I dug my fingernails into my bare palms. My heart had suddenly wrenched at her display of maternal affection and care.

"I'll still be going to school," Allie explained, "and as for moving out…"

I met her suddenly calculating gaze.

"…I'm sure Misa Amane has plenty of food at her place."

* * *

I had to admit, I was proud of my sudden stroke of inspiration. Matt and Mello nodded their approval.

"_The _Misa Amane? Is she a friend of yours?" my adoptive parents asked simultaneously.

"Yes," I lied. "I'm going to go pack a few things now, alright? I'm leaving tonight."

Monica looked crestfallen. "But you just got back, Allie."

"Are you sure you know what you're doing? Is this even necessary?" John asked gravely. "Although, I guess it's better than – "

He stopped abruptly. He didn't have to finish his sentence. I knew what he was about to say. _It's better tha__n moving in with two guys._

"Trust me," I told him gently, touching him briefly on the shoulder. "This is important to me." I stepped back, signaling the end of the conversation.

"It was nice meeting you, Mr and Mrs. Robinson," Matt piped up, turning to leave. "Thanks for the cookies!" He had eaten the entire tray.

"We'll be waiting outside. Take your time," Mello told me in an undertone.

"Sure." I smiled at him before hurrying out of the room and up the stairs. When I reached my room, I breathed a sigh of relief.

_That was easier than I'd thought. _I had been fully prepared for yelling matches, waterworks, guilt-trips – the whole nine yards. It was as if my parents had gotten personality transplants overnight. Which, I reflected, wasn't all that farfetched, considering what I'd put them through.

I locked the door, and practically dove into my closet. As I rummaged through my clothes, I had another random burst of insight.

I opened my desk drawers and pulled out a magazine: the March 2004 issue of Japan's _Eighteen_.

Misa Amane was plastered all over the cover. She had given an autographed copy to each of the cast members as a "token of appreciation."

I flipped through the glossy pages. "If I want to sleep with the enemy," I quipped to myself, "I have to be like the enemy."

I turned back to my closet, yanking out my Halloween costume. I tossed it onto the bed and threw in a few more outfits into my duffel bag. As an afterthought, I also packed several makeup sets, an assortment of perfumes and lotions, jewelry, and a pair of heels. Soon, my bag was completely stuffed with cosmetics and accessories.

Finally, I eyed my lacy costume with distaste. It was a sleek black and red corset dress.

I had worn it just last month to Sara's Halloween bash. I grinned as I recalled a certain line from one of my favorite movies:

"_Halloween is the one night a year when girls can dress like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it."_

It was also perfect for what I had in mind. I glanced at the magazine again. _Close enough, _I thought with satisfaction. I quickly tugged off my hoodie, and the rest of my clothes.

* * *

Rick Benson was just a few houses away from the Robinsons' when he spotted the bright red Camaro parked in the driveway. A lanky brunette decked in leather attire was leaning against the car, staring intently at something in his hands. There was a cigarette dangling out of the corner of his mouth, and a pair of aviators resting on the top of his head.

A scruffy-looking blond donning a red jacket was leaning on the passenger side of the car. He too, was dressed in leather. But unlike his friend, his attention was fixed on front door.

They were waiting for someone.

Rick narrowed his eyes suspiciously, and slowed down to a stop.

"Who the hell are those douchebags?" he hissed. He darted behind Allie's neighbor's car to observe them.

* * *

My parents were waiting for me at the foot of the stairs. As I descended, they watched me with grim expressions.

"You guys," I began awkwardly. "I don't know what to say."

"Allie," John said tenderly. He waited until I had reached the last step, when I was at eye-level. He seized me by the shoulders. "You don't have to say another word. A wise person once said: _you were always destined for great things_. And it's true. Just be careful, promise us!"

I was startled, and my eyes began to water. "I promise. But…who said _that_?"

"Your sister," Monica sniffed, hiccupping.

I couldn't help it. I burst into tears, and pulled my adoptive parents in for a hug.

* * *

The door opened, and Allie shot down the steps and into the driveway.

"Let's go," she said breathlessly. "Uh…what's wrong, Mello?"

I stared down at her. Something seemed off. "Is it just me, or have you put on a few pounds?" I joked, gesturing at her bulky figure.

She laughed. "No, I'm just getting into character. See?"

"What are you tal – "

My question died in my throat when Allie pulled off her purple sweater to reveal a black and red mess of lace and silk that gave me a generous view of her bare shoulders, arms and small bust.

I gulped. "What the hell?" I exclaimed. "Why are you wearing that?"

There was a loud clatter as Matt dropped his Nintendo DS onto the pavement. "Shit!" Matt hissed.

"It's part of my plan to win over Misa Amane," Allie explained, putting the sweater back on. She didn't seem flustered at all. In fact, she looked pretty pleased with herself.

I bit my lip as hard as I could, in order to distract myself from the tormenting images that were running through my head. "So…your parents…are they good now? Cleared everything up?" I stuttered.

Allie didn't even get a chance to reply.

A familiar-looking boy had suddenly materialized at the end of the driveway. There was a stormy expression on his face as he stalked right up to Allie like a hungry wolf. His toned, tanned arms were glistening with sweat, yet his highlighted hair and tight-fitting tank top appeared to be in perfect condition.

"Allie, you hypocritical bitch! You slut!" the guy yelled.

"Rick, what the hell!"

The next thing I knew, he had swung his arm back…

…and his fist was flying right at my face.

* * *

**A/N: The bolded quote was from 'Mean Girls'. Also, the 'March 2004 issue of Eighteen magazine' is taken directly from the anime/manga. This is the issue that Sayu and L both read. **

Shout-out to **xYourDearlyBeloved**, who was first to review the last chapter. If you adore LxOC, you'll adore her stories!

Thanks also to: Usagi323, TopGearGirl, ShadowedSerenity, Rainbow Rant, MasaJeevas, Kira the Wolf, I Love Bleach, eternalsnowfox, Dr. Who's There, DeathNoteManiac, and AnimeGirlZoe!


	25. Behind Closed Doors

**A/N: ****HAPPY CANADA DAY****, to the Canadians out there!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note. **

**Warning: This chapter is one of the longest chapters yet. It contains mature language + possibly disturbing themes. **

* * *

**Chapter 25: Behind Closed Doors**

* * *

In the blink of an eye, Mello dodged the blow. At the same time, Rick's foot jerked up, aiming straight for his groin.

"Are you screwing around behind my back, Allie?" Rick snarled as his kick landed, a sadistic smile spreading across his tanned face. I gasped as Mello blanched and doubled over in pain.

"Rick, stop it!" I shouted, instinctively slamming my body into his and tackling him onto the lawn.

"Who the hell is that goddamn freak?" my ex-boyfriend roared as he brutally shoved me away. I jumped up just as Rick scrambled to his feet and threw himself at Mello again.

Mello growled and leapt forward to meet him, his bare hands outstretched.

Rick yelped as Mello grabbed a fistful of his sandy-colored hair. Mello slapped his other hand over Rick's mouth, and roughly forced him down onto his knees. I quickly seized Rick's wrists and pinned them together, rendering him defenseless.

"Mmph!" Rick's angry voice was muffled as he stared up at us with his dark, rage-filled eyes.

"What's going on here?"

Matt sidled up next to Mello, lowering his Nintendo DS to observe the quivering boy who was my ex-boyfriend. Rick was now completely surrounded.

Mello cast a wary look at the front door, as if expecting my parents to pop out at any moment. They didn't. After several cautious seconds, he turned his attention back to Rick.

"No one," Mello said softly, as if talking to a small child, "lays a hand on me and lives to tell the tale."

Rick's blue tank top was drenched with sweat. His chest heaved for breath as Mello tightened his grip around his mouth and nose. I watched in horror as his face began to turn purple.

"Mels," Matt said warningly.

I met Mello's gaze, and we simultaneously released Rick from our grasp.

Rick toppled backwards onto the pavement, wheezing for air. He stood up unsteadily.

"Allie, where were you last night?" he hissed. His dark eyes were slit with jealousy as he glared at the three of us. "Don't tell me you were fucking the both of them!"

My jaw dropped. I could hardly believe my ears. He had never been this crude with me before. "Go to hell, Rick," I snapped.

"So you're not denying it, huh?" Rick ranted, riling up once more. "It hasn't even been one whole day yet, and you're already running off to not just one cock, but two? You're just... a little whore, aren't you?"

Mello went stock-still. Matt draped his arm securely around his friend's shoulders, and stared intently back at Rick.

"Dude, you'd better watch your mouth," the former redhead drawled, "because Mello here is really good with his gun."

Rick just stood there, his mouth flapping like a fish. "_What?_" he finally exploded.

"Go home," I cut in before Mello could show Rick what Matt had really meant. "We're over. Isn't that what you wanted?"

Rick shook his head frantically. A bead of sweat trickled from his temple, down the side of his chiseled face. "I didn't mean it," he mumbled. "I'm sorry. I'll take you back!"

I folded my arms across my chest. "Well, _I_ don't want _you_ back. You're obviously a crazy asshole."

"But we love each other! We've loved each other for a year! Don't throw it all away!" Rick protested, his voice growing hoarse.

"You wouldn't know what love is if it hit you in the face," I scoffed. "End of discussion."

Matt broke apart from Mello. "I'm bored," he yawned, tossing his cigarette to the ground and crushing it with his boot. "I'm going to start the car."

Rick was glowering at me. "Where are you going?" he demanded. I ignored him as I loaded my duffel bag into the back of the Camaro. "Answer me!"

"It's none of your business anymore, Rick." I slammed the trunk shut.

An ugly look twisted his handsome features. He was about to open his mouth again when Mello suddenly went, "Hey!"

* * *

"Hey!" I barked sharply.

Rick jerked his head up at the sound of my voice. In one fluid motion, I swept my jacket aside to reveal my hidden Beretta 92. The barrel was just peeking out of my waistband. I had no real intention to draw my weapon, but luckily, flashing it had the same effect.

"Oh, God!" Surfer Boy screamed, fleeing down the driveway and out of sight.

"Thank God," I muttered.

I opened the back door for Allie, and she silently climbed into the car. As soon as she was settled, I surprised everyone – including myself – by slipping in right next to her.

"Let's go," I ordered Matt.

He didn't need to be told twice.

* * *

Several miles away, a Japanese couple was window-shopping, arm in arm.

"Motchi," Misa Amane cried, excitedly pointing at the dazzlingly colored dresses, "they're all so nice! Which one should I get? What do you think Light will like best? Oh, I can't choose!"

Kanzo Mogi coughed as Misa squeezed his well-muscled arm. "I can't choose either," he offered politely.

"Motchi," Misa complained good-naturedly, "Misa appreciates that Motchi is protecting her from danger, but he is no fun when it comes to clothes-shopping!"

Mogi rubbed his head, embarrassed. "I'm sorry." He checked his watch. "Misa, it's almost one thirty. Shouldn't we be getting back? We haven't eaten lunch yet."

"Hmm," Misa replied, examining her surroundings. There were several cafés, bars, grills and bakeries. "Alright, let's go home," she decided. "Can we have shrimp today?"

"Sure," Mogi agreed. Garlic shrimp was one of his specialties. His companion perked up.

"Yay! Misa loves Motchi's cooking. Let's goooo!" the Japanese idol exclaimed, leading him away from the window display.

* * *

The car ride seemed to last an eternity. Mello showered me with advice while Matt drove.

"Be careful of Misa. She may seem like an idiot, but there is nothing more dangerous than a fool with a weapon that could wipe out mankind."

"Be careful of Mogi. He may not talk a lot, but he is extremely intelligent. Make sure he doesn't find out what you're up to."

"Try to get Misa to open up about her personal life. She may or may not give us clues vital to the investigation."

I finally threw my hands up in exasperation. "Mello, trust me. I can handle it."

We eventually pulled to a stop right in front of Misa's apartment complex, just across the street from Mello and Matt's hideout.

Matt cleared his throat, and handed me a tiny black casing.

"Allie, here's the thing. So far we've only been working on visuals and crappy audio. That's what I get for trusting the local geek squad. Here's our chance to kick it up a notch. This little guy is a powerful bug. I would know, since I made it myself."

"Does it matter where I put it?" I asked, determined to commit every detail to memory.

"Just make sure it's out of sight. Stick it under a table or something. It shouldn't be able to be detected by metal sensors. It's protected by the same shielding technology as the frequency shifter in my Nintendo," Matt explained, sounding like the professional hacker that he was.

I nodded. "What else do you have?"

The former redhead tossed me a plastic baggie filled with flower-shaped hair clips. "There are electronic bugs inside the clips," he informed me. "That way, your conversations are recorded wherever you go – when you leave the apartment, when you're at school, and so on. Or, you can just leave any one of these lying around and no one will even suspect a thing."

"I'll have to remember to take these out before going to the bathroom," I said, frowning.

"You don't have to," Mello deadpanned beside me.

I laughed. It felt good to laugh, especially after that upsetting scene with Rick. _He had some nerve, showing up at my house like that_.

"So, are you ready?" Mello asked me softly.

"Yeah," I said, shaking my fingers out in order to calm my nerves. "Alright, I'm going to get changed."

Matt had suddenly whipped out his Nintendo DS again, and Mello was staring pointedly out the window. I rolled my eyes. "How courteous." I pulled my sweater off, along with my track pants. I left my shoes on.

Underneath my normal clothes was my Halloween costume, the black and red corset dress. I had also thrown on a pair of fishnet stockings. It was the perfect Misa-Misa fangirl look.

"You can look now, you know. It's not that bad, is it?"

Matt peeked up from his game. "You look like a hooker from hell."

"I was going for that, thanks."

I noticed that Mello's ears had turned a bright red. I smiled and pressed my mouth against the side of his face, feeling the rough, bumpy texture of his scar under my lips.

"Gahh," Mello croaked.

As I was putting on the flower hair clips that Matt had just provided me, a Japanese couple, laden with shopping bags, rounded the corner up ahead.

"Target approaching," Mello hissed. We watched as Misa and her escort, Mogi, as Mello had informed me earlier, entered the apartment building.

"Matt, pop the trunk. It's time," I said briskly. I opened the door and stepped out of the Camaro, into the sunlight and heat of downtown Los Angeles.

* * *

Misa clicked her tongue impatiently as Mogi fumbled with the keys. "Come on, Motchi!"

"I'm sorry, it's kind of hard, carrying all these things," the burly man said apologetically, indicating Misa's shopping bags.

"Oh fine, let me!" The blonde playfully snatched the keys from him. She was just about to insert the correct key when she felt a light tap on her shoulder.

Misa spun around in surprise. Her chocolate-brown eyes narrowed in recognition as she took in the small teenager in front of her.

"Miss Amane?" the girl squeaked timidly.

"Allie," the Japanese idol acknowledged her as she openly stared at the younger girl's outfit. It was a corset dress, the kind she used to wear back when she was a full-time model. The strapless, silky bodice was embroidered with black and red lace, and the skirt was ruffled and frilly. Underneath the dress were fishnet stockings – Misa's favorite kind – in a Fleur-de-Lys pattern. The only thing that looked out of place was the pair of worn-out sneakers on the Eurasian's feet.

"What are you doing here? How do you know where I live?" Misa said suspiciously, crossing her arms. Mogi watched in silence.

Allie Robinson shyly bit her lip. "I was walking around downtown when I saw you, and I just wanted to say hello."

"Are you by yourself?"

Allie hastily rubbed her eyes, but not before Misa noticed the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. "Yes, I am."

"Why are you crying?" Misa demanded, placing her hands on her jeaned hips.

"Misa…" Mogi muttered beside her, appalled by her rude question.

Allie sniffed. "Well…uh…you see… my boyfriend dumped me yesterday. And today, my parents kicked me out of the house."

_No wonder she sounded like crap at yesterday's rehearsal! _

Misa blinked, astonished. "Oh, honey! Why?"

"They…they…they said they won't support any daughter of theirs who wants to become a Hollywood star!" the girl whispered, turning pink with shame. Allie bowed her head, and her long brown hair hung around her face like a curtain.

Misa made up her mind in an instant. She unlocked the door to her apartment and flung it wide open. "You can stay with me! We're gonna have sooo much fun!" the bubbly woman squealed.

Allie's head jerked up, her eyes wide with shock. "Oh no, I can't," she stammered.

"Yes, I absolutely insist. Motchi won't mind cooking for three, will he?"

The large Japanese man hesitated. But when he saw the pitiful look in Misa's friend's face, he couldn't resist. "No, not at all," Mogi said. "Come on in."

Misa Amane swept into her apartment, renewed with energy and excitement. "Yay! No offense, Motchi, but things were getting really boring around here!"

Allie merely beamed at her. "Thank you so much! Domo arigato!"

* * *

We were just settling down onto our respective couches back in Matt's apartment when Allie's voice chirped through the speakers.

"_Domo arigato!" _

Matt and I shot up in surprise. "That was easy," Matt commented, running a hand through his newly brown locks before sitting back down.

"Yeah. She's good," I replied. Allie's purple sweater and grey track pants were sitting in a folded pile on the bed. I had retrieved my leather gloves from the pockets, but for some reason, I couldn't bring myself to put them back on.

"So, what's the deal with you two? You were getting pretty friendly back there in the car."

"Shush."

"Don't deny it. I want details!"

"We've got a job to do," I reminded him. I put my headphones on to drown out Matt's questions.

So far, it sounded as though Amane was giving Allie an extremely thorough tour of her apartment. I suppressed a yawn.

"_So here's the bathroom…there's the shower, and the toilet, and yes, that's a Jacuzzi__! Misa has all kinds of shower gels and soaps and shampoos and…"_

"_L'Oreal Perfect Blondissima?"_

"_Heh heh, Misa doesn't know what that's doing there. Here, let me put that away…anyway, nothing else to see here! Now, this is the spare bedroom. It's supposed to be Light's bedroom, but he's never home…you can stay here."_

"_Thank you, Miss Amane. I really appreciate it."_

"_Just call me Misa, Allie! Okay, so, Motchi does all the cooking and cleaning…he's really sweet. He'd make someone a perfect husband, but not for me, because Misa is already engaged! This is my closet, where I keep my clothes and shoes and purses and…" _

I stared at the wall, my head throbbing with pain as Misa Amane's voice continued to drill into my head. My vision blurred, and I was only vaguely aware that my eyelids were growing heavy, like lead, and were fluttering shut…

…

"_Dear friends," Roger began. "We are gathered here today to mourn the death of a girl who brightened all of our lives when she was among us."_

I clutched my bouquet of red and spray-painted black roses as I waited anxiously for my turn.

I had never seen a corpse before, never mind a dead friend. I was glad I hadn't been there when Watari, Roger, and the elusive detective – L himself – fished Alternative's body out of the river. There were still, I counted, three people ahead of me. Near, Matt, and Linda. For some reason, they were all crowded around the casket, pointing and whispering vehemently.

"What's going on?" I hissed. I was curious, despite myself. I moved forward to see what they were looking at.

I peered inside the coffin. It was A, and she was dressed in her trademark green sundress. Her dead, porcelain skin contrasted greatly against the scarlet velvet of her casket.

"I don't get it. What's so interesting…?" I whirled around. Near, Matt, and Linda had vanished. Roger had disappeared too, along with all the other orphans. "Hey, where did everyone go?"

I was all alone. There wasn't a single soul in sight. The entire churchyard was empty.

"Mihael?"

I froze at the sound of my real name and pivoted on the spot. "What the hell?" I gasped, dropping my flowers in shock.

It was Alternative. And she was climbing out of the open casket.

I would've screamed, but something stopped me.

Ax wasn't...Ax anymore. She was at least one foot taller now, making us almost the same height. Her face and limbs were much slimmer, and her hair had lengthened into long, lustrous waves. Her only recognizable features were her angled, hazel eyes.

Her modest green sundress had suddenly been replaced by a strapless black and crimson corset dress. It was so short, I could – _Oh God – _see up the skirt, past the ruffles and lace…

"Oh, Mihael…" Alexandra purred as she circled me. I couldn't stop trembling. She suddenly pushed me down towards the coffin. I let out a yelp before I fell in, landing solidly on my back.

Ax gracefully clambered in on top of me, straddling my 14-year-old legs. I moaned at the sudden pressure that was stirring in my lower regions.

"Bloody hell, Ax," I choked out. "What are you doing? You're supposed to be dead!"

The girl slipped her hand up my black shirt and began to trace the outline of my abs. I shivered from the dizzying sensation of her soft, stroking hands.

"Call me Allie," she breathed heatedly, before leaning down to plunge her tongue deep into my throat. At the same time, she began to grind herself into my crotch.

"N-nngh..." I writhed underneath her. I was growing extremely, painfully, wonderfully hard. I was too excited to close my eyes. A forbidden thrill ran through me as I remembered that we were in a coffin, in an outdoor graveyard…

Ax – no, _Allie_ – broke the kiss and nuzzled her face into my collarbone.

"Oh, Mihael," she whispered, brushing her lips against my neck and rocking her lace-drenched hips against mine. It was becoming unbearable.

"_Allie," I cried out, my voice cracking._

"_Mello," Allie cooed._

"_Oh, God! Allie …" I repeated her name each time my body throbbed with pleasure..._

…

"Al – "

"Mello!" Matt bellowed.

My eyes flew open, and I fell off the sofa in a panic. "Oh, shit!" I swore as I realized what had just happened. I tugged off my headphones.

"I didn't see or hear anything," Matt said with a straight face. "But really, falling asleep on the job isn't such a good idea."

I growled at him in an attempt to salvage my dignity. I jumped up and quickly made my way to the bathroom, trying to ignore the sickening fire that was surging through my veins.

* * *

I took a deep breath, satisfied by my successful infiltration.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, besides that one bottle of blonde hair dye. I mentally snickered at Misa's attempt to hide it.

As Misa darted around the apartment, I was secretly studying the well-built Japanese man that was following us. When he finally left us to tend to the kitchen, I seized the opportunity to stick Matt's listening device underneath a chair in the living room.

Back in New York, Near had told me that Mogi was one of the few, rare men that impressed him.

"_The men on the Japanese Taskforce are blind idiots for not seeing that Kira is clearly in their midst. But Kanzo Mogi – he's an impressive man. He's very sharp, very loyal."_

Clearly, Mogi had been assigned to watch over Misa Amane for suspicious behavior. Now, he had me on his hands, and he on mine.

Only he didn't know that we actually shared the exact same motives.

* * *

**A/N: ****Thank****s for reading, and merci to all my amazing reviewers! **Special shout-out goes to **xYourDearlyBeloved**, who was first to review the last chapter again ^_^. Check out her new story, **Being Near**!


	26. Cosmos

**A/N: ****I'd like to wish an early Happy Independence Day for all of the Americans out there! Here's another extra-long chapter.**

**Disclaimer:**** This chapter heavily references Mulan, which I do not own (along with DN)…If you're unfamiliar with Mulan, you should totally watch it.**

**Note: ****Catalina Jazz Club is a real "21 & over" place on Sunset Boulevard, downtown Los Angeles/Hollywood.**

* * *

**Chapter 26: Cosmos**

* * *

"Allie, you look adorable today! Who knew you were such a huge fan of Misa-Misa?"

As I'd predicted, the clothes had worked in my favor.

I beamed at the older woman. "I'm your biggest fan ever! I love the work you did in Japan," I lied.

Misa smiled back at me, and then looked down at her plate of sliced strawberries. We had just finished a light lunch of garlic shrimp and rice, courtesy of Mogi.

"Misa loves…Misa loved it too," the blonde said, correcting herself.

"If you don't mind me asking," I inquired shyly, "why did you quit? I heard that you were just about to make your Hollywood debut."

"Light told me to retire to become his wife," she answered airily. I frowned at her overly cheerful tone. She misinterpreted my expression.

Misa leaned forward conspiratorially. "You're right, it's kind of boring. This school play of yours is the only excitement in my life at the moment," she whispered. Her brown eyes were wide with sincerity. "It's going to be so fun having another girl around here. You can stay with me for as long as you want!"

I felt a pang deep in my chest as my gaze swept the apartment. Obviously, Light wasn't home very often. Mogi seemed to be her only companion.

"I'm lucky to be here, Misa," I told her, hamming it up. "Speaking of the play, do you think…do you think you can help me with my lines?" I lowered my lashes, feigning shame. "If I screw up again, Mr. Jones will have to replace me."

Misa paused, her fork halfway to her mouth. "That's right…" she said guiltily, realizing her dilemma. "Misa is your understudy."

"You're also a wonderful assistant director," I added sweetly. "Everyone looks up to you."

Misa slammed her fork down. "Yes! So Misa will do her best to help you become successful. Let's prove your parents wrong!"

I gave her a genuine smile. She wasn't as bad as I'd thought. "Thanks, Misa."

"Although, Misa does have one condition…" the blonde said slyly, scrutinizing my face.

"Yes?" I prompted, dreading the rest of her sentence. I had a feeling I wasn't going to like it. Not one bit.

She wagged a manicured finger at me. "Misa will have to give you a makeover, first!"

* * *

"_Sweet! Let's get started, Misa-Misa!"_

I spat out my mouthful of chocolate. I had just opened a new bar to help calm my nerves after that dream, or nightmare, or whatever it was.

I also had to change into a fresh pair of leather pants.

"Girls," Matt grunted fondly. His handheld suddenly beeped, signaling that it was out of battery. "I was on level FIFTY! Damn it to hell," he swore, stomping over to his stash of equipment in search for a spare.

I merely rolled my eyes. "Boys," I added, just as affectionately.

* * *

Ten minutes later, I found myself sitting in a pink barber chair in front of the bathroom mirror. Misa was standing behind me, poised with a pair of scissors. She was ruffling my hair with her other hand, pulling at my long strands.

"How does seven inches sound?" Misa suggested.

I willed myself not to panic. "I usually just trim it," I said politely. "Two inches should be enough."

"No, no, no. The point of a makeover is to completely transform you! Do you want to be a Hollywood starlet or not?" the Japanese idol shrilled.

I reluctantly unclipped my hair, setting the flower-shaped hair clips on the counter. _Mello and Matt must be having a blast compared to me, _I thought morosely as I stared at the electronic bugs in disguise.

"Three inches, then?" I offered, nervously tapping my feet against the polished bathroom tiles.

"Six," Misa coaxed, "I want to give you a pixie cut. They're quite fashionable these days, are they not?"

I froze. I haven't had a pixie cut since I was twelve, ever since I was adopted. "Yes, Misa-Misa. But I don't like them."

The woman pouted. "Well, you should have _short_ hair if you want to play the lead role properly. After all, didn't the real Mulan cut off all her hair just to look like a boy? And since this is an American version, you should go blonde, too!"

"I'm not dyeing my hair blonde," I argued. "But I can go with four."

"Five," Misa retorted triumphantly. "That's between four and six!"

"Alright then," I agreed weakly. My stomach churned. "Five it is."

Misa nodded eagerly as she began to snip away at my hair. "You're going to look great, trust me!"

I grimaced. _I don't trust you any farther than I can throw you_. It was only yesterday that I despised her for trying to take my role. It was only last night that I found out she was involved with Kira. Yet here I was, moving in with her, dining with her, and… letting her hack off my hair.

_At least __she hasn't killed me…yet._

* * *

Matt gave me a sidelong glance. He had finally taken off the aviator sunglasses he had borrowed from me, and was donning his usual yellow-tinted goggles. "You know, Allie isn't the only one who should be getting a haircut."

I bristled. "My hair is fine just the way it is. I don't have time for ridiculous things like haircuts."

Matt ran a gloved hand through his own, newly colored hair. "What's ridiculous is that you look like a – "

I chucked my half-finished Caramilk at his head.

* * *

"See how good it looks, Alice?" Misa squealed, yanking off the bib with a dramatic flourish.

I narrowed my eyes. _Is she testing me? _According to Near and Mello, the Second Kira had something called _Shinigami Eyes_, which allowed the user of a notebook to see their potential victim's true name and lifespan.

"It's Alexandra. Allie is short for Alexandra," I told her truthfully, getting up from the chair. I swiped the flower bugs off the counter and re-clipped my hair. "And yes, it looks great. Thank you."

I was pleasantly surprised at how it turned out. Misa had given me layered bangs, and she had shortened my hair until it just swept past my chin, above my collarbone.

"No problem!" Misa chirped. "It was fun." She grabbed the box of Perfect Blondissima from the open cabinet and shoved it towards me.

"I'm sorry Misa, but I don't want – "

"Keep it," she gushed, "in case you change your mind. So, let's get started on those lines of yours, shall we?" Misa skipped out of the bathroom and down the hallway, into the main room.

I followed her obediently, quickly ducking into the spare bedroom – Light's bedroom – to stuff the box of hair dye into my duffel bag.

* * *

The next five hours were uneventful, though entertaining.

"_So you'll die for honor."_

"_I will die doing what's right!"_

Matt and I listened in rapt silence as Misa Amane and Allie ran through the lines for their play. I managed to demolish at least twelve more Caramilks by the time they stopped for a break.

I set my current bar down on the table when a thought suddenly occurred to me. Matt looked up in surprise.

"Is there something wrong with the chocolate?" Matt asked curiously.

"No," I replied. I gingerly ran my bare fingers over the left side of my face. It had been just two and a half weeks since the explosion, but my injuries had miraculously scabbed and healed over as best as they could. _All thanks to Matt. _After I finished examining my scar, I pulled on my leather gloves in an attempt to get rid of the feeling of disgust that was crawling up my skin.

"Matt…I just wanted to thank you," I mumbled, "for everything." For I'd just realized I'd never properly thanked him for rescuing me.

He smiled, his lit cigarette dangling precariously out of his mouth. "There's no need to thank me," Matt responded. He paused before adding, "I'd do anything for you, Mello."

_I know_, I said silently. _Me too._

* * *

"You shouldn't have to go!" I cried desperately. "There are plenty of young men to fight for us!"

"It is an honor to protect my family and my country," Misa intoned, not even looking at the script.

I shook my head in disbelief. "So you'll die for honor," I said bitterly.

"I will die doing what's right," the Japanese girl boomed in a husky male voice. "I know my place. It is time you learn yours."

A stony silence descended on the room. Then someone began to clap.

Misa and I whirled around to see Mogi's bulky frame filling the doorway. "Motchi!" Misa exclaimed.

The large Japanese man bowed his head. "That was very good," Mogi said quietly. "I just wanted to let you girls know that I'll be back in an hour."

"Okay," Misa responded in her normal, high-pitched voice. "Bye, Motchi!"

Before I could react, Mogi quickly left the apartment.

"Where is Mr. Motchi going?" I inquired.

Misa flopped herself down onto the sofa. "He's going to work. He's going to see Light." Jealousy oozed out of every word.

I sat down beside her. "What kind of work do they do, Misa?"

The older woman's eyes darted around the room, as if checking to see whether there were any spies lurking about. "Don't tell anyone, okay?"

"I won't," I assured her. "Why, is it supposed to be a secret?"

"Yes," Misa hissed. "They're investigating Kira! Motchi's on his way to their top-secret headquarters. Even Misa doesn't know where they are…"

My eyebrows nearly shot off my face. She was making this incredibly easy for me. "Kira?" I gasped loudly. "Are they crazy? They'll never catch him!"

"Light will catch him," the blonde said dreamily. "And then we can live happily ever after. Just wait and see. Oh, how I miss him." She leapt off the sofa in excitement. "Misa has an idea!"

I was startled by her sudden outburst. "What?"

"Let's follow Motchi," Misa giggled. "It'll be fun! Maybe Misa can introduce you to Light!"

My breath hitched as I stared at her, calculating the possibilities. There was no way she'd want to expose Light on purpose. Obviously, she didn't know that her fiancé was Kira himself.

"If you really want to," I enunciated clearly, "what are we waiting for?"

* * *

Matt and I sprung into action.

"This is our chance to find their headquarters," I informed him. "Get all of your equipment ready. If we pull this off, you can keep an eye on the Taskforce, while I watch over Amane."

Matt nodded, noticeably pumped. He snubbed out what had to be his millionth cigarette. "Awesome. It's about time we've had some fun, Mello!"

* * *

By the time we dashed out of the apartment building – Misa had insisted on a wardrobe change – Mogi was nowhere in sight.

Misa's bare shoulders sagged. She had changed into a strapless leather dress and a pair of crystal-encrusted heels. "Oh, we're too late," she simpered.

"Yeah," I said, trying to hide my disappointment. I glanced up at the complex across the street, where I knew Mello and Matt were keeping surveillance. _Did you get that, you guys? _I implored the window silently. I had done all that I could. I turned around to head back inside, but Misa grabbed my arm to stop me.

"Allie, do you want to, like, hang out for a while?"

I blinked at her. "Um…"

"Oh, c'mon! We're already dressed for a night on the town!"

I cringed. I wasn't keen on going out in public wearing my Halloween costume. Nor was I too enthusiastic about being seen with Misa. "But I left my wallet upstairs," I told her. Misa waved it off.

"Misa has her purse right here. Let's go to Catalina's! It's just a few blocks away."

I laughed nervously. "But Misa, that's a 21-and-over club. I'm only seventeen."

Misa raised an eyebrow at me. "Misa is almost twenty-five, and you look like you could be my long-lost twin sister right now. Let's go! No more buts!" Before I could protest, Misa hooked her arm through mine and dragged me away from the entrance. I winced as she tightened her vice-like grip around my forearm. For a petite person, she sure was strong.

_Oh well, _I thought. _What's the worst that could happen? Mello has my back._

I couldn't have been more wrong.

* * *

"Catalina's?" I muttered. I peered through the blinds, watching Misa latch onto Allie before pulling her away. Matt was already hot on Mogi's heels; he had jumped out of the side window as soon as the Japanese detective turned the corner.

Before I pulled on my leather jacket, I quickly sent a text to Matt. _**Going to CJC. **_I snatched the fake NYPD badge off the table and tucked it into my pockets. I also emptied out my blank gun, loading it with real bullets instead. I had a gut feeling I was going to need them tonight.

I made my way to the other window, and waited until Misa and Allie had disappeared around the corner as well. Then I silently dropped three storeys down, to the pavement below me. I landed right next to my bike.

_Allie, I'm right behind you. _I hurried out of the alley, and into the quiet, evening streets of Los Angeles.

* * *

"We're gonna have to see some ID, ma'am."

Misa flashed a pearly smile at the host. "I'm Misa Amane," she purred. "And this is my friend, Allie."

"Oh, where are my manners?" the man stammered as he peered closely at the Japanese idol. He snapped his fingers, and a waiter immediately materialized by his side. "Francis, please seat Ms. Amane and her lovely friend wherever they want," he ordered briskly.

Francis jerked to attention at Misa's name. He was a scrawny man, and even under the flattering red-rosy lights of the classy jazz club, I could just make out his sickly pallor.

"Right away," the waiter gushed. "Follow me."

"We'd like a seat at the bar, please," Misa cooed as we stepped into the club. There was a multi-ethnic band playing on the stage. I relaxed a little, letting the smooth jazz notes wash over me in pleasant waves. I glanced over at the bar, and was dismayed to see that the bartender was a heavy-set, mean-looking man. I got the impression that he was on the lookout for drunks he could throw out.

Francis bobbed his head up and down. "Go right ahead. Enjoy your stay at Catalina's!" He vanished as quickly as he had appeared.

"So," I began awkwardly. There were several couples on the dance floor, swaying to no particular beat. That was the beauty of jazz. "This is a really nice place, huh?" I said lamely.

Misa plopped herself onto a jet-black bar stool. "It's very classy," she agreed, brushing imaginary dust off the gleaming, spotless bar counter. "So what do you want? It'll be my treat!"

I seated myself next to her, and a delicious shiver of excitement ran through me. Just two nights ago, I had told Rick that my first legal drink would be a margarita or a daiquiri. And here I was, about to order my first legit drink, despite being underage. "I'll have to think about it," I told her, grinning as if Christmas had come a month early.

"Can we have two cosmos over here, please? Without ice!" Misa waved her hand. The bartender nodded, and went straight to work. Less than a minute later, he placed the frothy pink drinks in front of us. Misa grabbed one and clinked it with mine. "Cheers!" she cried before downing the whole thing.

I couldn't help but stare at her, feeling a bit grossed out. "Er…"

Misa giggled. "What's wrong?" She snatched my untouched drink as well. "Oops, too slow!"

"Ms. Amane!" I blurted. I'd never seen anyone shoot vodka so fast. "I don't think…"

"Two more please," Misa demanded. The bartender narrowed his eyes at her. He, too, had seen Misa's incredible feat. "Sorry Allie, but I was really thirsty!"

I cringed. I jumped when the barman pushed another cocktail towards Misa, and a glass of brown liquid – rimmed with a lemon wedge – towards me.

"This isn't mine," I politely told the man, wondering why he hadn't given us the second cosmo.

He shook his head. "It's an iced tea. The gentleman over there ordered it for you. He said that _you_ were underage. Now, I won't kick you out just yet, but if your girlfriend here becomes a problem, I will."

_What the hell?__ What gentleman? _I bent my head forward to peek down the counter. There, sitting on the far, opposite end of the bar, was a blond man shrouded in leather. A pair of aviator sunglasses covered more than half of his face, but I knew who it was.

"Mello," I quietly seethed, knowing that he could hear me because of the electronic bugs in my hair. "What's your problem?"

* * *

**A/N: ****That**** may have seemed like it was a filler, but OH HO HO HO. We're getting closer and closer to the inevitable moment you've all been dreading…**

Special shout-out goes to** xYourDearlyBeloved, **who was first to review the last chapter! Check out her profile, and her three awesome stories!

Thanks also to all the readers, alerters/favoriters, and to the amazing reviewers with your wonderful words of encouragement (in reverse alphabetical order): VeryWithdrawn, Usagi323, TopGearGirl, ShadowedSerenity, Rainbow Rant, MasaJeevas, Kira the Wolf, I Love Bleach, eternalsnowfox, Escaping Dreams, Dr. Who's There, DeathNoteManiac, and AnimeGirlZoe!


	27. A Goddess is Born

**A/N:**** I had to make this chapter extra-long again, as it contains excerpts from Volume 10: Chapter 85.**

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own Death Note, but I do own Allie, my OC version of A (Alternative).**

**Note: This chapter contains mature language/themes and violence. And beware of the time skips!**

* * *

**Chapter 27: A Goddess is Born**

* * *

"I'll need to see some ID, sir."

I coolly surveyed the trembling man before me, fully aware of the menacing vibe I radiated. "NYPD," I told the host in a low voice, flashing him the SPK's fake badge. "I'm following a suspect."

The man's eyes widened with awe and suspicion. "Aren't you… outside jurisdiction?" he whispered, looking mighty proud of himself for asking.

"And aren't you obstructing justice?" I said calmly. Through my earpiece, I could hear Misa Amane and Allie getting ready to order drinks.

The host snapped to attention. "Welcome to L.A.'s finest jazz club, Officer. Are you in need of any assistance?"

"I'll show myself in, thanks." Brushing past the quivering man, I weaved my way through the club.

A lively and sophisticated medley of saxophone, clarinet and piano met my ears. My gaze swept over the entire setting – the stage, dining area, dance floor, bar… _the bar. _Allie and Misa Amane were perched atop the black barstools, hunched over a pair of pink cocktails.

My heart gave a little lurch as I studied Allie from behind. Her hair had been layered and shortened by at least five inches, exposing her pale shoulder blades. I casually made my way to the opposite end of the bar, and watched with detached revulsion as Misa chugged down both of the cosmos. Allie was too busy gaping at Misa to notice me.

"_Two more please__. Sorry Allie, but I was really thirsty!"_

The bartender turned away to mix the drinks, a scowl settling on his features. I raised my hand to stop him. "Excuse me."

The large man set the glasses down. "How many I help you?"

With a flick of my wrist, I showed him my badge. "The brunette over there is underage. Let me buy her an iced tea instead. Forgive and forget, alright?" I pushed several coins towards him.

The bartender looked shocked. "I'll just let her off with a warning, then. Is that right, Officer?"

I thanked him, observing as the man prepared the drinks and brought them over to the girls. I smirked when I heard Allie's confusion through my earpiece.

From across the counter, she leaned forward to take a good look at me. Recognition flittered across the Eurasian's face, and her lips moved slightly.

"_Mello. __What's your problem?"_

I could hear her loud and clear, thanks to Matt's little creations. I gave her a small, nonchalant wave, and mouthed, _"No drinking on the job."_

Allie gave me an indiscernible look before taking a sip of the iced tea.

* * *

I unenthusiastically brought the glass of iced tea to my lips, swallowing my pride along with the cold, sweet liquid. Mello obviously meant well, yet it felt as though a treat had just been cruelly snatched away from me.

"_Allie!"_

I almost slipped off my barstool when Misa suddenly leaned forward, shoving her face right up to mine. I could smell the vodka on her breath. "Yes, Misa?"

"Have you ever been _cheated _on?" she coughed, eyeing me blearily.

_Oh man, s__he's a lightweight. _"No," I replied gently. I got the feeling that Misa was seconds away from pouring out her heart and soul to me.

She threw her arms around my neck. "Light saw other girls while we were dating," she whispered confidentially. "Many girls. Like Kiyomi and Yuri and Mayu. I think he screwed them all."

I instantly felt bad that Mello was listening in on this, and automatically looked up across the bar at him. To my surprise, he plucked something out of his ears – an earpiece – and slipped it into his jacket. Mello's lips tightened, before silently forming the words: _I trust you._

I nodded slightly. I watched as the leather-clad blond hopped off his barstool and strolled away without looking back. My eyes followed him out of the club, subconsciously admiring the way his pants clung onto his fit figure.

"One more!"

I quickly turned my attention to Misa, who had just gulped down the rest of her third drink. She pounded her fist on the counter. The bartender glared at her, clearly reluctant to fulfill her order. "Hurry up! I'm not getting any younger over here!"

"I'm afraid you've had enough," the beefy bartender growled warningly. "Sorry."

"What?" Misa protested. "That was nothing!"

The bartender didn't budge. Instead, he looked pointedly at me. "Control your friend, or I'll have to do it for you."

"Misa," I prompted her quietly, "do you want to go dance?"

Big mistake.

"Yeah!" the petite Japanese idol shrieked, leaping off her seat. She wobbled on her crystalline spikes for a moment, grabbing my head for support.

"Ouch! Misa!"

"Sorry," she burbled happily. "Get on the floor, get on the floor!" To my horror, she dashed towards the dining area instead.

"Ms. Amane, that's not the dance floor," I cried, running after her. But it was too late. The blonde was clambering on top of an empty table, which teetered dangerously beneath her. Misa began to sway her hips, provocatively sliding her manicured hands up and down her leather dress.

I was horribly aware that the club had fallen deathly silent. The band had stopped playing, the patrons were staring openly at Misa's raunchy stunt, and the scrawny waiter that had showed us to the bar earlier – Francis – appeared by the tableside.

I waited for the waiter to tell Misa off, but all he did was gawp at her wiggling body.

A loud voice finally broke the silence. "What's going on here?" I whirled around to see the host storming into the dining area. "Get off the table, Ms. Amane!"

"No!" Misa slurred, sticking her tongue out at the fuming man. "I like it up here – _wahhh!_"

The Japanese girl flailed her limbs, lost her balance and stumbled off the table. Francis quickly moved forward to catch her, but I beat him to it.

"Thanks, Allie!" Misa chirped as she landed right in my arms. I didn't even buckle under the extra weight. "Wow, you're _good_."

I didn't reply. I was too busy focusing on the two, sharply-dressed security guards that had suddenly materialized in front of us.

* * *

Purple-black darkness had fallen by the time I reached the apartment.

_I hope Allie's alright. _

From the looks of it, she and Misa seemed to be getting along just fine. It made our job – weeding out Light Yagami – all the easier. I had just entered the alleyway when I got the call. I flipped my cell open.

"What, Matt?"

Matt sounded out of breath. _"I'm pretty sure I've found their headquarters. Plus, there's an abandoned apartment across the street from them." _

"That's convenient," I said thoughtfully. "You can move in there tonight."

"_Help me get my stuff, will ya? I'm taking the car."_

"Yeah, I'm on it." Snapping the phone shut, I let myself through the side entrance of the building.

Within minutes, I had transferred Matt's stash of personal effects, laptops and cameras from our room to the private underground garage, where he kept the Camaro – safe from prying eyes and slippery fingers. He was much more paranoid about grand theft auto than I was.

Before long, Matt himself arrived. The gamer immediately collapsed against his car. Behind his yellow-tinted goggles, his sun-deprived face was flushed and sweaty.

"Hey…Mels…thanks…" Matt panted, gesturing towards the packed equipment. He clutched at his chest and tore off the restricting leather jacket, revealing his trademark loose stripes. He tossed it at me. "I don't see how you can wear this shit!"

I handed him his fleece vest, which he yanked on gratefully. "I had a feeling you couldn't handle its awesomeness," I commented wryly.

"Never again," Matt muttered, jumping into the car. "Well, I'd better get going."

I stepped back, saluting my accomplice as he pulled away and sped out of the garage.

* * *

"You are hereby banned from Catalina Jazz Club," the host declared.

My cheeks burned hotly, and Misa merely made a silly face at him. The tuxedoed bouncers cracked their knuckles threateningly before forcefully nudging us toward the emergency exit.

"I'm so sorry," I babbled as we were ushered outside into the dark, bricked alleyway. Misa was clinging onto my arms like a monkey.

"Please don't come back." The metal door slammed shut, clanging loudly in our faces. I stared at it, stunned. _Well, that was unpleasant._

"Allie…" Misa whimpered, slumping against me. "Misa wants to go home. Misa feels sick."

I grabbed her by the elbows and dragged her out to the sidewalk into the soft, amber glow of the streetlights. "Can you walk?"

The petite blonde shook her head. "Piggy-back?" she pleaded, her brown eyes glittering hopefully. I huffed, scanning my surroundings. There was barely anyone in sight. Thanks to Kira, even the famously wild nightlife of Los Angeles had been tamed.

"Fine," I said grudgingly. "But you'd better not throw up on me."

"Yippeee!" Misa squealed, pouncing on my back. I winced as her fingers dug painfully into my shoulders.

"Hold on tight," I gasped out. I staggered off, keeping a firm grip on the young woman's legs. It wasn't too difficult; Misa had to be at least twenty pounds lighter than me. I steadily began to make my way back to Misa's apartment, disregarding people's blatant stares as we passed them. Misa pressed her face against my newly cropped hair, humming a distinctively Japanese melody.

My arms began to ache after four blocks. "Misa," I whispered weakly, "can I let you down now?" I thanked the heavens that I wasn't wearing heels. I was already starting to feel blisters forming on the soles of my feet.

She ignored my question. But the next words that came out of her mouth chilled me to the bone.

"_Don't look behind you__."_

Her voice was hushed, and somewhat sober. I tensed, resisting the urge to whip my head around. I slowed down as I fought to keep my emotions in check. "Why, Misa?"

"_Keep walking, Allie."_

I resumed my pace, treading down the sidewalk as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Behind me, I could hear Misa zip open her purse, and I could feel her movements as she rummaged through the contents.

* * *

I stripped off my jacket, vest, pants, socks and underwear before climbing into the shower. A groan escaped from my lips as the hot streams of water beat down on my tense body. The cleansing was long overdue.

Tonight, I could relax.

In less than twelve hours, we had managed to infiltrate Misa Amane's apartment _and _determine the approximate location of the Japanese Taskforce's headquarters. _What now? _

I lathered on a generous amount of shower gel. I didn't know what kind it was, as the label had been peeled off long ago, but it was bright blue. _As long as no one makes any moves, we'll be safe. Soon, we'll see whether Amane really has a notebook or not._

* * *

"Misa?" I asked cautiously.

A loud hissing sound suddenly filled the air, followed by an agonizing screech of pain.

"_Ahhh, fuuuuuck!"_

I pivoted on the spot, with Misa still hooked onto my back, and stared in horror at the man before me. He was on the ground, scratching away at his face. His mouth was wide open as his high-pitched wailing pierced the night sky.

"Oh my God!" I screamed. Misa gracefully slithered off my back, and viciously kicked the squirming man at our feet. "Misa, what the hell are you doing?"

"Saving our – _hic_ – lives," the blonde said seriously. She handed me the object in her hand.

It was a can of mace.

"Did you really – _hic – _you could sneak up – _hic – _on us like that – _hic_ – _Francis_? Hmm?" Misa shrilled. At that moment, the clouds that veiled the full moon parted above us, and a shaft of silver light illuminated the scrawny waiter's face. "I should post your name on the Internet for Kira! Would you like that?"

Misa gave the man one last violent kick before yanking off her heels. "Come on Allie, Motchi's – _hic – _waiting for us!" She nimbly skipped away, bare-footed. Numb with shock, I followed her, leaving the pathetic little man behind us.

I finally found my voice after ten minutes. "Misa," I murmured. "You were so brave."

Misa gave me a weird look and giggled. "It's no biggie. I'm used to – _hic – _stalkers."

I wordlessly thrusted the can of mace back at her. She shook her head and fluttered her hands.

"That," Misa drawled, "is the most – _hic_ – useful weapon – _hic_ – you can have – _hic – _if you ever – _hic – _get cornered – _hic_. You can keep it! I've got plenty – _hic – _at home! Misa has a black market – _hic – _supplier back in _– hic – _Japan!"

Mogi was waiting at the entrance of the apartment. He didn't ask any questions. He didn't need to. Our slightly disheveled appearances and Misa's slurred speech told most of the story.

After a lengthy, hot shower and a comfortable, long-awaited change of clothes, I sank into Light Yagami's bed and curled myself up into the sheets. _I wonder what Mello is doing…I wonder what Monica and John are doing…Misa saved my life …I just hope tomorrow isn't as exciting…_and then black, dreamless sleep claimed me.

I didn't know it then, but Misa saved more than our lives that night.

* * *

Sunday was a complete drag.

From the sound of things, Misa was suffering from a massive hangover. The whole day consisted of her complaining of a migraine, and requesting Mogi and Allie to fetch her sandwiches and Tylenol.

I spent the whole time pacing around the apartment in my headphones. Extreme boredom was no stranger to me, yet for some strange reason, I was more restless and irritated than usual. It was only when Allie spoke, which wasn't often, that I found myself eagerly tuning in.

Just before midnight, I heard her suddenly whisper, "Two more weeks, Mello." And that was it.

I bolted straight up from the couch. Unable to respond and ask her what she meant, I spent the rest of night pondering her cryptic message.

* * *

Monday was a complete nightmare, even in comparison to my weekend of misadventures_._

I felt as though I had aged ten years as I trudged through the halls of Los Angeles Coast High. Everything seemed so foreign to me – including my trusty old locker, my textbooks, and even the noisy cafeteria that somehow managed to house and serve a thousand starving, raging teenagers at once.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't focus during any of my periods. I barely scraped by on a math test that I'd forgotten about over the weekend, and I could only stare fixedly ahead as heads turned to stare at me. The girls didn't even bother to hide their contempt.

"_Oh em gee! I heard that Rick dumped her ass! __Ugh, look at her hair! Who does she think she is – a model? That reminds me, guess what else? She moved in with Misa Amane!"_

I idly wondered how they had found that out. I got my answer when my best and only friend showed up at my locker after the final bell.

"Your parents told me you moved in with Ms. Amane yesterday," Sara confronted me stiffly. I looked at her in surprise, nodding. "Well, can you tell me _why_?"

I was speechless. She sounded unreasonably angry. "I wanted her to help me with my lines. That's all."

Sara frowned at me. "_That's all? _You didn't answer any of my emails over the weekend. I tried your cell, but I couldn't reach it. What's up with that?"

"I- I was busy," I stammered, nervously twisting a lock of my short hair.

"Too busy cozying up to washed-up celebrities, isn't that right?" With that, Sara turned on her heels and walked away.

Sara avoided eye contact with me throughout the entire play rehearsal. Misa hadn't shown up, which disappointed Mr. Jones immensely. He cheered up the instant I began to sing, and even applauded me for my vast improvement. I barely heard him.

All I wanted to do was run home to the Robinsons. Instead, I found myself taking the bus downtown, back to Misa's apartment, where I found the blonde woman sleeping fitfully. Mogi was watching over her from the exact chair I had planted Matt's listening device on.

* * *

"_Motchi."_

"_Yes?"_

"_It's really great that you're a good cook, and that you do everything for me, but it's been five days, you know? This is supposed to be a secret from Light, right? Misa's beginning to feel bad that we're together 24 hours a day and not telling Light."_

"_Yes…"_

"_Thank goodness that Allie's here, too. If it weren't for her, Misa would feel like we're having an affair, Motchi!" _

I rolled my eyes, shifting uncomfortably on the sofa. It was Tuesday, the first day of December, and another school day for Allie. So things at Misa's apartment were dull and insufferable as usual.

I decided to check up with Matt. I whipped out my cell and speed-dialed his number. He picked up on the first ring. "Matt, how's it going for you?"

"_Boring_," he replied. _"I've seen no movement at all. So far, they've had all their food and stuff delivered. And both Aizawa and the other Japanese guy who went into the building after him haven't come out…which makes it very likely that this is their headquarters. But it's so boring watching something that never changes."_

I sighed. "Come on, I'm doing the same thing. And if L is there, then they may think that the SPK tailed Aizawa and discovered their location, so they might decide to move. If you're not careful, they could get away."

"_Then why don't you change places with me? At least you get to eavesdrop on a cute girl. Two cute girls, to be exact__," _Matt replied cheekily.

"You're such a perv," I retorted. We both hung up at the same time.

* * *

By the end of the week, I was exhausted. The days had blurred together so fast, it was a miracle that I was able to keep up. I had barreled through all the lessons, rehearsals and schoolwork like a frenzied robot. When Friday night finally arrived, I made a bee-line straight for the spare bedroom. I collapsed onto the bed like a flat tire and blacked out.

A piercing scream jolted me wide awake. "Allie!" Misa wailed from somewhere outside the room. I leapt off the bed and flickered on the lights, shooting the clock a quick glance. It was 2 A.M.

My first thought was that someone had broken into the apartment.

"Misa, what's wrong?" On the way out of the room, I grabbed the can of mace that Misa had so thoughtfully given me last Saturday. I skidded to a stop when I found Misa crouched in front of the large plasma television in the main room. She was hugging her knees to her chest.

"Ms. Amane?" I said carefully. I glanced at the TV screen. "Misa, why are you up so late?"

"I'm watching the news, silly."

I froze at her icy tone. "What news?"

"NHN." Misa's nostrils flared unattractively.

I padded over to her, and peered up at the television, where a raven-haired Japanese woman with delicate elfin features was speaking directly to the camera.

"_Good evening. This is News 6, and I'm Kiyomi Takada.__ Today, it is my duty to spread the word of Kira accurately to everybody."_

* * *

**A/N: AUGH! TAKADA! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES.**

Special shout-out goes to** xYourDearlyBeloved, **who was first again to review the last chapter! Check out her stories, they're brilliant. Another special mention to **eternalsnowfox**, who was this story's 100th reviewer! AHHH! That rocked my socks :D

Thanks also to all the readers, alerters/favoriters, and to the other amazing reviewers with your wonderful, continual support (in reverse alphabetical order): **VeryWithdrawn, Usagi323, TopGearGirl, ShadowedSerenity, Rainbow Rant, MasaJeevas, MafiaGirl14, Kira the Wolf, I Love Bleach, Escaping Dreams, Dr. Who's There, DeathNoteManiac, **and** AnimeGirlZoe**! I love you all.


	28. Sayonara

**A/N:**** This chapter contains excerpts from Volume 10, Chapter 86! Of course, I've tweaked a few details to fit with my story.**

**Disclaimer:**** I just own Allie.**

**Note: Takada is shown to be on both the 6 o'clock news and 'finishing' the 9 o'clock news. I can only assume that she does both positions…**

* * *

**Chapter 28: Sayonara**

* * *

Matsuda had called him shortly after both of the girls had fallen asleep. "Mogi-san, the next Kira spokesperson has just been announced. We're having an emergency meeting. Come quickly!"

In his haste in leaving the apartment, Mogi had forgotten to turn off the television. Unbeknownst to him, Misa had come out five minutes later to investigate the source of the noise.

Currently, he was stationed behind Ide, who was sporting a sleeping mask on his head. All of the Japanese Taskforce watched, transfixed, as the beautiful and popular NHN anchorwoman delivered her first message as Kira's mouthpiece.

_Kiyomi Takada._

_This girl…there'__s no doubt. She's the one from Light's university._

Mogi knew for a fact that Takki, as Matsuda fondly nicknamed her, once dated Light Yagami. He'd seen them together on campus – while Light was also "with" Misa – in deep conversation and exchanging fairly intimate gestures.

"…_everybody on this Earth will be subject to Kira's judgment_. _That is the message I have for you today._"

Matsuda replayed the video over and over again. Mogi felt ready to burst. A bead of sweat prickled his forehead. "Aizawa," he finally whispered.

Aizawa immediately picked up on his urgent tone. "Light," he announced loudly, "I'm going to step outside for some fresh air with Mogi, alright?"

Light didn't even bat an eye. "Go ahead."

Once they were outside the building, Mogi got straight to the point. "Aizawa, this is something that I only told L, Ryuzaki, when Light was in university – Kiyomi Takada was thought to be his other girlfriend, aside from Amane."

Aizawa looked stunned. "But Light never said that he knew her... no, even if Light is Kira, it would be strange for him to…I just don't understand," he mused.

Mogi knew they were both thinking the same thing. _Are we just reading too deeply into this? _

The two men were quiet as they pondered this startling new development. Mogi opened his mouth to tell Aizawa about Allie Robinson, the girl who had moved in with Misa last weekend. But before he could, Aizawa's phone beeped.

Aizawa frowned as he read the text. "It's Light. He wants us back upstairs to discuss the investigation."

* * *

_Plonk, plonk._

"That bitch! _That stupid bitch_!" Misa shrieked, pummeling Takada's face with her bare fists. More accurately, she was punching the image plastered on the plasma screen. _Plonk, plonk._

"Whoa, calm down!" I cried, pulling the petite woman away from the living room and into the hall. "What's wrong, Misa-Misa?"

Misa tore away from me, practically frothing at the mouth. "Kiyomi tried to steal my Light. I hate her! _I hate that home wrecker!_"

I subconsciously noted her proper use of the first person. "That was years ago, Misa. _You _are engaged to Light now," I reminded her. "Besides…she can't hold a candle to you."

That was a lie, of course. Kiyomi Takada had to be one of the most elegant, sophisticated-looking women I'd ever seen. But at the same time, I found her icy, polished demeanor extremely off-putting.

Misa stopped sniffling, and beamed at me. "Allie, you are just too sweet!" She promptly skipped back into her bedroom, but not before calling out, "Tomorrow, we're going Christmas shopping!"

I stared after her in astonishment. _She's so easy to please_…

I returned to the spare bedroom, gratefully collapsing back into the bed. However, sleep wouldn't come. Guilt and longing plagued my thoughts. It took a while to put my finger on it, but I finally realized what it was – I missed my parents. And I missed my new friends, especially…

…Mello.

But I didn't dare to contact him. Even I understood what it meant to be deep undercover.

_How much longer do I have to keep up this charade?_ It had been a week since I moved in with Misa, and she hadn't exhibited any suspicious behavior at all. By now, I was convinced that she wasn't the Second Kira. _I'm sure Mello has come to the same conclusion as well. So, what now?_

* * *

My phone suddenly rang. My eyes flew open, and I silently berated myself for dozing off.

"What's up, Matt?"

"_This __is Lidner,"_ came Halle's crisp voice.

I sat up straight. "What?"

There was a hiss of static as the SPK agent exhaled. _"Commander Rester has been investigating Light Yagami in Japan. Near has ordered me and Gevanni to go over there as well. If you saw the news, NHN's anchorwoman has just been chosen to be Kira's spokesperson."_

I had seen the program. "Kiyomi Takada, I know."

"_Accord__ing to Rester's reports, Takada and Yagami were more than just friends. Plus, Near is almost certain that the one writing the names in the notebook is in Japan."_

So, the board was finally set.

"_Am I right to assume that you __and Alexandra are watching over Amane as we speak?"_

"Yes. She might have been the Second Kira in the past, but she isn't anymore. I'm sure of it."

"_Have you found L's headquarters yet?" _Halle ventured.

I gritted my teeth. "Why doesn't Near ask me himself?" I challenged, sarcasm dripping from my words.

There was a lengthy pause. I almost dropped my cell when I heard the familiar, monotonous voice on the other end of the line. _"Hello, Mello. Have you and Alternative found L's headquarters yet?"_

"Yes," I replied stiffly. "Matt is keeping surveillance right now."

"_Good. And how is she? Ax, I mean." _Near sounded genuinely concerned.

I toyed with my zipper as my chest twitched strangely underneath my vest. "Just peachy."

I was lying.

For the past few nights, Allie had been mumbling in her sleep non-stop. Matt's high-tech hair clips were able to pick up on every single word. It was one word, to be exact – a name.

_Kira._

* * *

I had finally fallen asleep by four A.M., but woke up to the smell of burnt toast a mere five hours later. I groaned when I noticed Misa waiting in the doorway. She was already dressed in knee-high boots, jeans, a tank top and denim jacket. A simple pair of sunglasses was perched on top of her blonde head.

"Rise and shine, Allie!" Misa greeted me excitedly. "Motchi's still at work and Misa burnt all the food, so we'll have to go out for breakfast today. And then we can hit the boutiques…"

I yawned. "Give me a few more minutes."

The blonde stomped over to the closet and tossed me a handful of clothes. I spluttered indignantly as my pair of black jeans hit me squarely across the face. "Alright, alright!"

The moment I finished lacing up my sneakers, Misa rushed me out the door, down the stairs and into the harsh morning sunlight. "There's a Starbucks just around the corner!"

Sad to say, my caramel Frappuccino was the highlight of my Saturday. By the end of the day, my feet were blistered and my muscles were sore from dragging around half of Misa's purchases. We had managed to visit almost every single luxury store within a two mile radius. The only upside was that it had temporarily distracted me from my foreboding sense of dread and uncertainty.

Mogi was there to greet us when we returned to the apartment. "Good afternoon, girls."

"Hey Motchi!" Misa threw down her bags and pranced around the large man. "Guess what? We went Christmas shopping! Oooh, Misa should start planning her birthday bash too… Allie, wanna help?"

"I'm sorry, but I have to study for this huge science test on Monday," I told her truthfully.

"Ewww." The blonde sulked. But then she perked right back up. "That's okay, Motchi can help Misa!"

Surprisingly, she didn't bother me again. I remained holed up in the bedroom for the rest of the weekend, with only my textbook and notes to keep me company. Despite my protests, Mogi delivered snacks and meals straight to my door. I thanked him repeatedly, and secretly watched the Japanese officer out of the corner of my eye whenever he came to replace the empty plates. He seemed tenser than usual.

_He's not the only one_, I thought somberly.

When I finally slammed my textbook shut, it was 11 P.M. _I'm definitely going to ace tomorrow's test. _My head was swimming with diagrams of atoms, elemental properties and chemical formulas. I padded outside into the hallway, desperate for a shower. On the way to the bathroom, I passed Misa's bedroom. The door was slightly ajar.

"Light…_oh, Light_!"

I froze at the sound of her moans. Before I could stop myself, I poked my head into the room, half-expecting to see Yagami himself. But it was just Misa, restlessly tossing and turning in the sheets, calling out Light's name in her sleep.

I withdrew my head quickly, feeling as though I was intruding on something personal. Shower forgotten, I returned to my room – Light's room – and curled up into a ball on the carpeted floor, next to my bag. That night, I slept on the ground.

* * *

That night, Mogi didn't get a wink of sleep.

_This is it. Our last __night in Los Angeles. _Only Misa didn't know it yet.

His fellow Taskforce members had already left for Japan yesterday. They took separate flights, in pairs – Light and Aizawa, Matsuda and Ide.

Mogi recalled Light's warning: _"Also, as we go back to Japan, I would prefer to keep our whereabouts a secret from Near. If Near finds out, there's a chance that Mello and his new accomplices will find out too. As long as we have the notebook, I would like to be absolutely sure that Mello doesn't know where we are."_

It was necessary to keep a low profile. No one was to know that they were returning to Japan.

As one of the most dedicated members of the Japanese Taskforce, Mogi understood the seriousness of the situation. As an agent of the law, he knew that capturing both Kira and Mello were important. But as a human being…

Mogi placed his conflicted head into his large, calloused hands. He had secretly allowed Misa one extra day to enjoy with Allie Robinson. It was unfortunate timing that her friend had a test the following day. Instead, he attempted to show the girl his appreciation before they could never see her again. While she studied, Mogi brought her tea, sandwiches and rice cakes. The words had been on the tip of his tongue – _Thank you for keeping Misa company – _but then he decided against it. It was too sentimental.

It was 7 A.M. when Allie woke up to shower, change, pack her things and leave to catch the bus. The petite Eurasian was halfway out the door when Mogi stopped her.

"Wait…here…"

The Japanese man awkwardly handed her a small, wrapped apple pie. Allie gave him a surprised look. "What's this for, Mr. Motchi?"

"I made it for Misa," Mogi fibbed. "But she doesn't like sweets, so...well, good luck on your test."

The brunette smiled at him. "Thank you. See you later!" She swept out of the apartment, clutching her bag in one hand and Mogi's dessert in the other.

"Sayonara, Allie." He watched the girl through the window. She had just managed to reach the bus stop on time. Mogi waited until the bus was out of sight before going off to wake up Misa.

"Misa-Misa," he said gently, prodding the blonde awake. "We're going back to Japan today."

* * *

I was in the middle of eating my breakfast – chocolate, what else? – when Misa's high-pitched voice screeched through my headphones.

"_EHHHH? WHY? But Misa can't leave without telling Allie! Motchiiiiii, don't be so mean!"_

I jumped to my feet in alarm, the floor creaking loudly underneath my combat boots.

"_Misa-Misa, __Light doesn't want anyone to know you're going back to Japan. He wants to keep it a secret. It's...it's for your own safety!"_

"_But – oh, Light said that? Yay, he's worried about me! He really does care! Where is he now?"_

"_He's already waiting for us in Japan…"_

"_Oh, okay. F__iiiiiine, Misa will go pack now."_

I gnashed my teeth and viciously bit down into my chocolate bar. I whipped out my phone and speed-dialed Matt. He answered on the second ring.

"What are you doing, Matt? Mogi and Amane are on their way to LAX! The others are already in Japan!" I yelled, a bit more loudly than I'd intended.

"_Damn, they got me!" _Matt swore under his breath. _"They must have paid the food delivery guy who came yesterday and used his truck to move out along with all their equipment. I questioned the usual delivery guy after he came out counting a wad of money, but the room was already empty…he couldn't even tell me how many of them there were. I had the camera rolling on all the exits and windows, but they used the truck's door to block the view…shoot!"_

I was barely even listening. I was too busy stuffing Caramilk bars into my pockets. _Matt, you were supposed to keep your eyes open. _

"Matt, I'm going to tail Mogi to Japan," I declared as I stormed out of the apartment and into the alley. "Follow me right away."

"_Huh, Japan…? Seriously…? What about Allie?"_

I smirked. "Don't worry about it. We'll see you in Japan."

Snapping my phone shut, I leapt onto my trusty bike and kicked it into high gear.

* * *

"You may begin…now."

There was a flurry of movement as all the tests were flipped over. The classroom was suddenly filled with the furious scratching of pens and pencils. Other than that, everyone and everything was completely silent, including the normally-noisy frogs that were kept imprisoned in the giant tank along the back wall. It was as if they were mourning their impending doom: _Oh no! The biology unit is next!_

I tapped my pen against my lips, and stole a glance at Sara, who was sitting on my right. Her face was puckered in deep concentration.

"Ms. Robinson, keep your eyes on your own paper."

The classroom broke into a soft murmuring. My cheeks flared in mortification, and I lowered my gaze to the first page.

_For one point: What is the __chemical formula for table salt?_ _For six points: What are the six types of chemical reactions? For three points: Define pH._

"Easy as pie," I muttered under my breath as I jotted down the answers. I was extremely relieved. I needed to make up for the math test I failed last Monday.

I never got the chance to.

I was only semi-aware of the knocking at the door. I was too focused on labeling the glucose molecule on the third page.

"No, you may not come in. We're writing a test right now. Please go back to your own class…what do you mean, you don't go to this school? Don't make me call the princip – _hey!_"

Everyone jerked their heads up at the sound of Mrs. Duncan's angry voice.

I glanced up to see a heartbreakingly familiar, leather-clad blond stride purposefully into the classroom. The whole room, including the frogs, exploded into chaos.

_Holy shit. _

Mello stopped right in front of my desk, and took off his sunglasses. His intense aquamarine eyes drilled into mine. "Allie, I'm so sorry. But we have to go, _now_."

I blinked up at his scarred face. "Wh-wh-whaaa…?" I stammered.

"Excuse me! Get the hell out of my classroom, or I'll call the cops!"

"I tried your cell, but it was turned off," Mello whispered hastily. Mrs. Duncan was on the classroom phone, speaking rapidly into it. Everyone else was either exchanging test answers, openly staring at me and Mello, or chatting loudly with each other. "Mogi and Misa are on their way to Japan!"

"What?_" _I leapt out of my chair in horror.

"Allie, you _know _this…guy?" Sara piped up suddenly, over the excited buzz of the classroom. It was the first time she'd spoken to me since last Monday. I looked down at her. My best friend was scrutinizing Mello's appearance, wrinkling her nose in distaste at the crimson-beaded rosary that hung from his neck.

Suddenly, I just wanted to get out of there. I grabbed my bag.

"Alexandra, where do you think you're going?" Mrs. Duncan demanded. Everyone fell silent as they watched me curiously.

"I have some business to take care of," I replied. Several of my classmates made shocked, scandalized noises in their throats.

"You can't…you can't just leave in the middle of a test!" my teacher stuttered, turning red with indignation.

"Yes, I can," I said brazenly. I caught a fleeting smile on Mello's lips. Before Mrs. Duncan could say another word, I strolled out of the classroom, my heart beating like a rabbit's.

* * *

Allie was waiting for me in the hall, while I still lingered in the doorway of the classroom.

"Mello, what are you doing?" she hissed impatiently. "The principal's going to be here any minute now!"

"Just a second," I murmured silkily.

I whipped out my silver-plated Beretta 92 and fired a single shot. There was a fantastic shattering of glass; a symphony of screams erupted from the teenagers as they dived for cover. The stout teacher also fell to the ground, clutching her head in terror. On cue, an ear-splitting alarm filled the air.

I turned on my heel and sprinted out of the room. "What the hell was that?" Allie yelled over the noise, breaking into a run to match my pace. Students spilled out of every classroom in a frenzied rush to evacuate the building.

We burst through the emergency exit. My gleaming, black motorcycle was propped up against the pale bricks of LAC High.

"Let's just say..." I growled, handing Allie the spare helmet, "...that your science department is now short twenty-five frogs."

* * *

**A/N: ****Japan, here we come! **

A special mention goes to **xYourDearlyBeloved**, who was the 1st to review the last chapter! HEHEHE. You know what else is number one? Her fabulous stories, **Being Near **and the **Kimiko **dilogy!

Thanks also to all the readers, alerters/favoriters, and to the other amazing reviewers for your incredible support (in alphabetical order): AnimeGirlZoe, DeathNoteManiac, Dr. Who's There, Escaping Dreams, eternalsnowfox, I Love Bleach, Kira the Wolf, MafiaGirl14, MasaJeevas, Rainbow Rant, ShadowedSerenity, TopGearGirl, Usagi323, and VeryWithdrawn!

J'aime tout le monde!


	29. Paper Trails

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own Death Note, just Allie.**

**Note: Narita International Airport, mentioned in the manga, serves the Greater Tokyo Area of Japan. **

* * *

**Chapter 29: Paper Trails**

* * *

"Everything alright back there?"

Mello's voice was muffled by his helmet. I tightened my arms around the blond's waist as the world tilted and streaked past us in a blur of color.

"Yeah," I shouted over the noise of the wind.

I had ridden motorcycles plenty of times before, but nothing _ever_ came close to this. As Mello expertly weaved through the morning traffic on the way to LAX, I could sense the raw, unparalleled intimacy between man and bike. Underneath Mello's leather jacket, my interlocked fingers pressed against the hard, heated skin of his exposed midriff. I was doing all I could to focus on the road ahead, and not on the snug way my thighs were wrapped around his lower body.

_The road ahead…_

We were gaining on the airport with every passing second. By some incredible stroke of luck, all the stoplights were green. Mello gunned right through the intersections and maneuvered around each bend with ease and precision.

My adrenaline was pumping in sync with the bike, while my mind raced at top speed. Even if Mello hadn't directly said it in words, I knew what the plan was.

We were going to Japan.

_What the hell am I going to __tell my parents? What about school? _I desperately fought the urge to scream at my companion to pull over before it was too late.

_No, it's already too late. It was too late the moment __I decided to join forces with my past...which I barely even know about._

As we continued to roar down the highway, with the giant LAX sign rapidly appearing into view, it occurred to me that the hollowness in the pit of my stomach had finally disappeared.

* * *

It was half past eight by the time we reached the Tom Bradley International Terminal. TBIT was more crowded than I had ever seen it. I subconsciously squeezed Allie's hand as we shoved through the swarm of business people and families blocking the lineups.

To my relief, I spotted both Mogi and Misa at the Japan Airlines ticket counter, checking in several large pieces of luggage. _Just in time._

Allie was as white as a sheet. "So, I guess…"

"Do you really want to do this?" I cut in, making it easier for her.

She flushed, her cheeks filling with a fiery color. "As I said before, I'm in this for the long run." Her voice, however uncertain, rang with sincerity. "Besides, the police are probably looking for us now. We need to get out of here as soon as possible, before I'm reported missing."

That was good enough for me.

We ducked our heads when Mogi and Misa broke away from the counter. They passed so close to us that we could have reached out and touched them.

"Misa's hungry," the blonde girl audibly complained. "They'd better be serving good breakfast in first-class, eh Motchi?"

I waited until the Japanese couple disappeared into the flock of to-be passengers, presumably on their way to the gates. "Allie, I'll ask you one more time. Are you sure you want to do this? You'll be leaving everything behind – your friends, your family, school and your commitments. _Everything_."

Allie and I moved forward in the line. Her face was a picture of determination. "My parents will understand. This is my commitment now," she affirmed.

"Do you have everything you need?" I pressed. "Passport?"

She patted her bag. "Yeah, it's in here…" She trailed off, looking dismayed. "My clothes are still at Misa's place!"

I scoffed. "You can get whatever you want in Tokyo."

"Including a new bike?" Allie inquired innocently.

I blinked. "Yeah," I muttered gruffly. I'd abandoned my motorcycle in the Central Terminal Area, where the parking was free for bikes. However, that also meant that there was a higher chance of theft.

"Next!"

Allie and I approached the counter. "Two economy-class tickets please. First available flight to Narita," I told the ticket agent, reaching into my jacket for the cash. But before I could hand over the money, Allie slapped something down onto the counter and pushed it towards the man.

It was a credit card.

* * *

"You paid last time," I quickly improvised, noting Mello's alarmed expression.

"But…"

"It's okay," I insisted, casting him a significant look. I calmly gave the ticket agent my passport.

In reality, my insides felt like jelly. By using my credit card to purchase the flight tickets, Monica and John would only have to check my online banking account to know the whole story. This way, I wouldn't have the need to further contact them once we arrived in Japan. It didn't matter that I was leaving a paper trail for the authorities; they would eventually look into my passport visa activity anyway.

Mello nodded as realization dawned on him. "It wouldn't hurt," he admitted, also handing over his passport.

The ticket agent was watching our exchange with a slightly bored expression. "How long will your trip be?" the man asked, his hands poised over the keyboard.

"Umm…" I looked at Mello.

"Ninety days, to be safe," he drawled suggestively. "That's the maximum time for tourists, right?"

The ticket agent nodded before inputting the data into the computer. "Do you have any luggage you need to check in?"

I placed my duffel bag into the bagwell beside the counter. "Just one."

The agent leaned down to check my pack. "This is small enough to be a carry-on," he remarked before tagging it and transferring it to the main conveyor.

"I have liquids in there," I explained. "Cosmetics." _And Misa's pepper spray. _

The man gave us back our respective passports, each with a printed ticket tucked inside its cover. "Proceed to Gate 101. Your plane leaves one hour. Have a safe flight," he announced.

My chest tightened in anticipation as we hurried off, losing ourselves in the mass of people lining up for security checks. Mello's mouth was a grim slash as we neared the checkpoint.

"I can't board as a cop this time," he whispered under his breath, "or they'll be asking what an NYPD officer is doing in L.A."

My heart skipped a beat. "So how are you getting your g – "

I broke off when I felt something small and metallic press into the palm of my hand. I glanced down to see a white-gold crucifix pendant. _What in the world?_

"Matt made it for me last week, right when we got back," Mello explained in a low voice. His sharp eyes darted around before he added, "It's a frequency scrambler."

My jaw dropped, and I lifted the pendant to my eyes to inspect it closely. The cross was boxed and chunky, while the gilded body of Jesus jutted out more than the standard crucifix.

"Go ahead, try it out."

I gingerly pressed my thumb down on the miniature figure. It sank down into the thickset cross, like a button. I removed my finger, and the golden Jesus sprung right back up.

"Blasphemous," Mello murmured, "but brilliant."

I nodded in agreement and curled my fingers around the pendant. "Brilliant."

* * *

Security measures had always been a pain in the ass. Four weeks ago, I could've had every single employee at Los Angeles International Airport groveling at my feet– with the power of the Mafia behind me. At my command, I could've had all the security guards on our payroll – even the most hardened veterans.

But that was then, and this was now.

Near's flat, disdainful voice filled my head. _And L wouldn't have approved of that. _

_Shut up, Near_.

The guard was glaring at me with the utmost suspicion as he gestured me to the checkpoint.

"Do you have any luggage with you?"

_What are you, blind? _I wordlessly shook my head, and began to unhook the decorative chain from my pants, along with my belt. I also tugged off my jacket, exposing my bare arms to the cool, air-conditioned air. Last but not least, I pulled off my combat boots. I knew the routine. I dumped my belongings into a tub on the conveyor belt to be x-rayed.

"Step through the detector, please." The man's pupils were dilated, as if he was expecting some action. His dark, beady gaze briefly flickered from the left, scarred side of my face, all the way down to my crotch. I could almost hear his thoughts.

_Is that a gun in your pocket, o__r are you just happy to see me?_

I smirked and strutted through the metal detector.

The alarm remained as quiet as the grave – despite the silver-plated Beretta stuffed down the front of my pants.

As soon as I collected my things and was out of sight, I yanked the gun out of my underwear and returned it to the holster at my hip before it could do irreparable damage.

I had forgotten to put the safety on.

* * *

I was next.

I took off my shoes and stepped forward. I was only wearing jeans and a tank top, so I didn't need to worry about anything else. Except for…

I barely even flinched when the alarm bells went off.

The security guard excitedly sprung to his feet. "What was that?"

"Oops, my bad!" I pretended to look embarrassed. I fished out some spare change, several bus tokens, and the cross pendant from my pocket and placed them onto the side table where a cup of coffee sat, cold and forgotten.

"One more time, Miss," the guard practically shouted. When I did, passing through successfully this time, the uniformed man relaxed and waved me through. "Next!"

I swiftly collected my shoes and swiped the pile of coins off the table, crucifix included.

I joined Mello on the other side of the checkpoint. He had finished redressing, and by the expression on his face, he had witnessed the whole incident.

"Yes?" I couldn't help but smile smugly.

He arched his brow at me. "Good thinking."

"Worked like a charm," I replied casually. "I think your criminal mastermind is starting to rub off on me."

I had purposefully allowed myself to set off the metal detector. This way, I was able to avoid putting the cross pendant through the x-ray system, which would've exposed its blatantly suspicious interior of microchip technology.

"You mean _genius_," Mello retorted, his eyes glinting mischievously. He produced a chocolate bar, seemingly out of thin air, and unwrapped it while we walked through the gates.

"With you, it's the same thing."

The rogue genius criminal mastermind leered at me before snapping off a piece of his chocolate. "Very true."

* * *

We quickly made our way through connecting tunnel and up the ramp. At the end of the passage, we were greeted by a raven-haired flight attendant who looked like he had spent his whole life in a beauty parlor.

The man flashed his unnaturally white teeth at us, but his smile faltered when he took in my unruly appearance. I locked eyes with him, and he hastily turned his attention to Allie instead.

"Ohayo gozaimasu!" the flight attendant practically trilled, bowing his head.

Allie gave me a weird look. "Uh…hello."

"Good morning," I told the attendant coolly. The smile on his face faltered again.

"Let me show you to your accommodations," the man declared, recovering quickly.

Less than a minute later, Allie and I were squeezing through the tight aisles of the plane. When we finally managed to plop ourselves into the hard, uncomfortable seats, the attendant immediately disappeared without offering us further assistance.

"Oh well," Allie said a bit wistfully. "Did you hear Misa on the way in?"

"I think everyone on the plane heard her."

When we were being ushered to our economy-class seats, Misa's distinct voice had carried all the way from the front to the back. _"Muffins for breakfast? Are you kidding me? Misa can't eat that!"_

We didn't have to wait too long for takeoff.

"_Good morning everyone, I'm Ken, your pilot for the day. Please fasten your seatbelts, as we are preparing for takeoff. Thank you for your co-operation, and please make yourselves comfortable for the next eleven hours."_

As the plane rumbled off the ground, I stuffed the rest of my chocolate bar into my mouth.

Allie let out a little sigh as she peered through the glass window.

I leaned over her to check out the sight. Even in the harsh sunlight, Los Angeles looked beautiful. The plane soared through the clear air, leaving behind the silver urban sprawl. We watched in silence as we hurtled upwards, over the harbor and towards the open, cerulean water of the Pacific Ocean.

After I finished admiring the view, I settled back into my seat and closed my eyes tiredly. I hadn't been able to sleep for the past few nights, not since Lidner called to tell me that she and Gevanni were heading to Japan. I was only half-aware of the new weight on my left shoulder as I sank into a fitful slumber…

I jerked awake when I felt something soft and warm press against my sensitive, scarred skin. I shuddered from the unexpected contact and lifted my eyes to see Allie looking curiously at me.

"What was that for?" I mumbled groggily, brushing my bangs out of my face.

Allie blushed. "I'm sorry I woke you up," she said quietly, "but I heard you talking in your sleep and…I was just wondering…"

My gut twisted. "What did I say?" I was almost afraid of the answer.

"You were saying _Wammy _over and over again."

"I see," I uttered, trying not to betray my sense of relief. But at the same time, I was a bit shocked that I had been dreaming about the orphanage, of all things.

"And well, I was wondering if you could…" Allie trailed off.

In an instant, I knew _exactly _what she was thinking.

"You want me to tell you about yourself," I finished for her.

* * *

**A/N: ****Woot, storytime! Did anyone notice what I did there, with the chapter? (Hint: see Chapter 15)**

**Also, if you want to see what Mello's high-tech crucifix is based on, check out the link on my profile. **

SHOUTOUTS. Firstly, thank you to **xYourDearlyBeloved**, who was 1st again to review the last chapter! Check out her **Being Near **and **Kimiko **stories. They're like what chocolate is to Mello!

Thanks also to everyone else's incredible, unfailing support: AnimeGirlZoe, BeyondBirthdayXL, Dr. Who's There, Escaping Dreams, eternalsnowfox, I Love Bleach, Kira the Wolf, MafiaGirl14, MasaJeevas, Rainbow Rant, ShadowedSerenity, the one who loves pickles, TopGearGirl, Usagi323, and VeryWithdrawn! You guys rock (:


	30. A is for Alternative

**A/N:**** Yours truly just turned 19! Let's celebrate with a slightly fluffy/angsty chapter. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer:**** I only own the privilege to drink legally **_**and **_**responsibly.**

**Note:**** Heads up for British slang and mature themes in this chapter. Also, abnormally large gaps are where the line breaks are supposed to be, and flashbacks start with "..." then italics, and end with italics + "..." **

* * *

**Chapter 30: A is for Alternative **

* * *

Mello surveyed me, his clear eyes filling with pity.

No, _understanding._

"You want me to tell you about yourself," Mello muttered, voicing the dearest wish I had ever held since I arrived in Los Angeles five and a half years ago. My pulse quickened.

"Yes," I confirmed, tightly gripping the armrest between us. I was sure that eagerness was written all over my face. "Please."

Mello nodded slowly. "I'm amazed it took you this long to ask," he mused thoughtfully.

That caught me off guard. "I guess I was just too afraid to," I admitted, averting my gaze. "I mean, from what I already know…"

Near and I were best friends. I was almost raped and killed by Beyond Birthday. I jumped off a bridge and tried to drown myself. Mello hated my best friend enough to run away from the orphanage when L died.

It wasn't exactly average, casual conversation material.

Mello made a sudden noise deep in his throat. I looked up at his scarred face, expecting to see revulsion and spite etched into his features. I wasn't prepared for his nostalgic, faraway expression.

"There's nothing to be afraid of, Allie." He ran a gloved hand through his flaxen locks. "I just don't know where to start."

My heart almost burst with emotion.

"Tell me everything," I blurted out. "I want to know about you, Near, and Matt."

He barely even flinched at the mention of his rival's name. Rather, a triumphant smile graced his lips.

"Me, then Near?" Mello repeated, looking like Christmas – or Halloween – had come early.

"Huh?" I was mystified by his reaction.

"You said…oh, never mind." He continued to grin broadly, like a Cheshire cat.

And then it hit me. _He'__s happy I didn't say Near first, _I thought wryly. I decided to keep that theory to myself.

"Come here," Mello demanded lazily. He stretched out his left arm, snaking it around my shoulders. The casual yet intimate gesture raised a trail of goose bumps across the back of my neck. I sank into the crook of his arm, feeling warm and comfortable, despite the rough upholstery of the airplane seat.

"Do you like stories, Allie?" Mello's leathered fingers danced along my bare skin, tracing my collarbone.

I shivered a little. "They're my life."

It wasn't an exaggeration. I devoured novels like Mello devoured his chocolate. Being raised by two librarians probably had something to do with that.

"Good answer," he murmured.

I smiled, but didn't say anything. Instead, I scooted closer to his body, concentrating on his gruff – yet somehow tender – voice.

"As you know," Mello began quietly, "you were the first to be handpicked by L. You were his original successor, his _Alternative_. You were practically untouchable…"

* * *

Memories of the orphanage came flooding back to me, and I was no longer an ex-Mafioso, no longer a murderer, no longer a young man scarred by flame and guilt.

I was just an orphan, a bully, a student struggling to break the ranks at the most exclusive children's institution on Earth…

…

"_Mello, you're in the top five again. Congrats."_

_Matt's fin__gers flew across the keyboard, filling our dorm with a steady stream of clattering and clicking as he erased all signs that he'd hacked into Roger's database. He couldn't care less about the marks, but I could never wait until Monday morning for the weekly results. _

_I immediately shot off my bed. "Alternative and Backup," I guessed. No, it wasn'__t even a guess; I knew it for a fact. "Who's third?" I held my breath._

"You-Know-Who." Matt twirled around in his chair to face me. "Tough break, mate."

"Argh!" I snarled. I pounded my fist against the desk, emphasizing each syllable with a punch. "Are – you – kid – ding – me?"

"No, he beat you by one point."

I glared at the goggled redhead. "That was a rhetorical question," I grumbled. I lashed out impulsively, shoving the stack of textbooks off my desk. They fell to the hardwood floor with a spectacular crash.

"Bloody, useless things!" I ground out, pulling at my hair in frustration.

Matt yawned, plucking a loose string from his striped shirt. "I'd wish you better luck next time, but I'd be wasting my breath."

I was a nanosecond away from making a witty comeback when there was an insistent knock at the door. I threw my roommate and best friend a panicked look. "Turn off the computer," I hissed anxiously.

"I did," Matt informed me, yanking off his tawny goggles. They were his so-called "hacking glasses". "Coooome iiiiiiiiin!"

The door opened to reveal two small children, both two years my junior. One was a plump, half-Asian, half-European girl with a chestnut pixie cut. Her sharp, hazel eyes swiftly scanned our room before resting on Matt's sweaty face. The other was a white-clad, snowy-haired boy. He blinked owlishly up at me, clutching a toy duck to his chest.

Alternative and my nemesis… _Near. _Numbers one and three, in the flesh.

"What's up?" Matt chirped, gesturing for them to come in. I was shooting daggers at him, but his jade-green eyes merely twinkled back at me.

"Why are Mello and Matt not at recess?" Near asked innocently. "Are they engaging in questionable activities?"

"Shut up, Near!"

"Near," Alternative scolded her friend. She beamed up at us. "We were wondering if you guys would like to play hide-and-seek with us. Linda's not very good at being It_._"

I sighed. "I'm sorry, Ax. I have to study. I'm trying to read ahead…"

"Did Mello come in fourth again?" Near said bluntly.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "How would I know?" I seethed.

Near's dark gaze was unreadable. "I know that you know how you would know, and that you actually know."

Matt snickered behind me. I whirled around and gave him the evil eye. "Nonsense," I replied coldly.

"You hacked into Roger's database," Near stated, staring at Matt. "Don't worry, we won't tell."

Matt crossed his arms in defiance. "No, I didn't."

"I am sure you did, and I can prove it."

"How so?" I sneered at the pyjama-clad brat.

Alternative piped up, her eyes glittering playfully. "For one thing, Matt looks like what _you _look like after evening pudding, Mello."

I was taken aback. "Which is…?"

"Post-orgasmic."

There was an instantaneous flurry of black and white as Matt fell off his chair, hooting with laughter. My own lips twitched with amusement, and at the same time, horror.

"My my, isn't someone a little precocious?" I smirked faintly at the 10-year-old girl before me. However, I wasn't too surprised. She wasn't first at Wammy's for nothing. As I was already aware, her maturity level even matched that of Beyond Birthday, despite the latter being nearly twice her age.

"I am no more precocious than you are, Mello."

"Touché, Ax."

The bell suddenly rang, signalling the end of recess. My head jerked up, and I could've sworn I saw a flash of black streak by the doorway. I decided it was just my imagination.

Boy, was I ever wrong.

"I'm sorry we ran out of time," I told the young prodigy. It was strange, talking like that to the future successor to the greatest detective in the world. It was hard to believe that Alternative, this pudgy little bundle of energy, was L's heir.

"It's fine. We can play later," Near said pointedly, waving his rubber duck at my face.

I recoiled. "I wasn't talking to you, sheep. Go suck a puzzle."

"Hey, be nice!" Alternative and Matt chorused in unison. I rolled my eyes.

Later that night, I was lounging on my bed when I heard the shuffling of socked feet just outside the dorm. The door slowly creaked open.

"Mello?" Near peeked into the room. All I could make out was his crown of white curls and his large, silvery eyes.

"What?" I snapped crankily. I'd run out of chocolate bars just that morning, and I had to wait until tomorrow to replenish my stock. Roger only took us out grocery shopping on Saturdays, that lazy old git.

"_Ax told me to give you this..." _

_A paper plane came sailing through the door crack. _

_I caught the plane in mid-air, between two fingers. I unfolded it carefully, and read the message handwritten inside. My irritation evaporated like dew drops on a summer morning, and was instantly replaced by alarm... _

…

I paused for a moment to gather my thoughts.

Allie stared at me, wide-eyed with interest.

"What?" she pressed. "What did I write?"

"You requested to meet me in the garden at midnight. You said it was an emergency."

There was a moment of stunned silence. "What happened?" Allie asked in a low voice.

"Beyond Birthday happened."

Allie blanched at this, but she recovered quickly. "Go on," she said encouragingly.

I didn't need to be told twice. "Beyond never seemed to care that you and Near were friends," I continued. "But that all changed on this very same day."

I stopped, feeling an ancient hatred bubble up within me. Beyond had torn us all apart; he had destroyed the delicate peace at the orphanage. It was his fault that A had tried to kill herself.

"How?" Allie's voice was barely above a whisper.

"He got jealous. Insanely jealous."

…

"_A, what's the matter?"_

_I burst into the moonlit garden, where Alternative__ was perched on top of the park bench. She was crouching on the spot in a very particular way. Wearing only her green sundress and a matching shawl, she reminded me of a frog._

_She caught me staring at her.__ "L sits like this. It keeps his deductive abilities from dropping forty percent," she explained quietly._

My jaw dropped, impressed. "You've met L? Whoa…!"

"Backup and I have both had the privilege of meeting L," Alternative informed me. I squinted through the darkness to see the scowl forming on her lips.

"Ax…what's wrong?"

"B has been acting strange lately," she muttered.

"Yeah, I guess so," I said, bewildered. "But he's always been a little odd."

There were disturbing rumors that the older teenager would listen at children's doors when they were asleep, or break into the kitchen in the middle of the night. The orphans at Wammy's respected him – no, _feared _him – enough not to complain to Roger.

Ax's gaze pierced into me. "I have no choice but to tell you this. Near already knows." She handed me three slips of paper. I read them out loud.

"_Roses are red, violets are blue. Why can't you see I'm so fucking in love with you_?"

"_Be mine, concubine."_

"_Goldilocks and Snow White are dead meat."_

I felt queasy. "Beyond wrote all of these?"

Alternative nodded. "Mello, what should I do?"

"Well," I spluttered, "you've got to tell Roger! Or Watari!"

_She__ rocked back and forth on her heels, hugging her knees. Ax looked diminished somehow, like an ordinary schoolgirl. "But L likes B too much. I don't want to damage his reputation. On the other hand, I don't want to put you or Near in danger. I don't know what to do."_

_I puffed __out my chest importantly. Alternative, number one at Wammy's, was asking me for advice! _

"_Don'__t worry, he can't hurt us. Heck, if he even so much as lays a finger on Near, I'll teach him a lesson!"_

_I shouldn't have let my pride get to my head. _

_And more importantly, I shouldn't have made a promise I couldn't keep._

…

I broke off, unable to continue. My eyes travelled down to my chest, where Allie's head was now resting.

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you, Allie," I breathed into her hair.

* * *

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed that brief but important) insight into A's past. Thanks for reading! **

**Special shout-out: **To **xYourDearlyBeloved**, who was first to review the last chapter! Check out her new story, The Everett and Perry Chronicles, if you're into Sherlock Holmes.

**Special mention: **To **Escaping Dreams**, who has brought to my attention that in the States, Caramilk bars are actually called….**CaraMELLO **(Caramello) bars. WTFOMGAMAZING.

Thanks also to all you other lovely and friendly reviewers: AnimeGirlZoe, BeyondBirthdayXL, Dr. Who's There, Echo1317, eternalsnowfox, I Love Bleach, Kira the Wolf, MafiaGirl14, MasaJeevas, Rainbow Rant, ShadowedSerenity, the one who loves pickles, TopGearGirl, Usagi323, and VeryWithdrawn! You guys make me smile like there's no tomorrow.


	31. Raving Mad

**A/N: Thanks for all the birthday wishes and reviews! You guys are incredible.**

**Disclaimer: This chapter contains excerpts from Volume 11, which I don't own.**

**Note: Their flight departed December 7 at 10 A.M., Los Angeles time. Also, capoeira is L's real fighting technique.**

* * *

**Chapter 31: Raving Mad**

* * *

Los Angeles Coast High was an absolute circus.

Rumor had it that an unidentified man broke into one of the classrooms and escaped with a female student. According to several eyewitness accounts, the suspect had shot an aquarium filled with frogs before fleeing. A single gold-plated bullet had been found lodged into the wall. Ballistics wasn't able to find a match – they never got the chance to.

Shortly after the LAPD field unit finished dusting for prints, the FBI arrived.

A few hours later, at exactly the same time a certain Boeing 777-300ER was soaring over the Pacific Ocean, the Los Angeles Police Department officially declared the whole incident to be an elaborate hoax. No charges were to be laid and the case was dismissed as a harmless, high school prank.

Arrangements had been made with all the witnesses to swear them to secrecy. It wasn't too difficult to threaten to charge them with obstruction of justice and air them on the news to be judged by Kira. Despite this precautionary warning, the halls of LAC High were already buzzing with barely-veiled whispers of government conspiracies and cover-ups.

They weren't wrong.

_Mello, what were you thinking?_

As soon as he'd seen the breaking news, Near was forced to call in multiple last-resort favors owed to the late FBI director, Steve Mason, in order to halt the LAPD's investigation of Alexandra Robinson and the "unidentified" man.

_Is this your way of telling me that L has made his move?_

It was ironic that Near should invoke protection for him on behalf of Mason, who had been killed by the Mafia two months earlier with the notebook. But an innocent life was involved – _Ax _was involved – and he had no choice but to take action.

This would be the SPK's last hurrah in the United States of America.

_Well then, now it's my turn to go to Japan. All the pieces are set._

"Commander Rester," Near said calmly as he connected to his subordinate stationed in Japan, "what is the situation over there?"

The commander's voice was grim. "We're trying to get onto Takada's personal bodyguard team, but the hurdles are getting higher. We need a little more time."

"Very well, I had a feeling it would be like that. In that case…can you return to New York immediately?"

Rester glanced around carefully before speaking into the webcam. "Immediately? Why?"

"I'm coming to Japan," Near replied curtly.

"Do you mean I'll be in New York while you're gone?"

Near bit his lip, scowling at the toy model of the Tokyo Tower on the floor in front of him. "No."

The man looked bewildered. "Then why do I need to return to New York?"

"I've never made travel arrangements myself. I want you to come back, and we'll go to Japan together," Near explained, sighing resignedly. He disliked addressing his own weaknesses. On the other hand, it was a characteristic that he and Mello shared.

"Very well…"

Near left the room, his socked feet silently padding across the cold tiles of the empty SPK headquarters – headquarters that would remain empty for the next two months. The wraith-like teenager wandered into his personal chambers, where all of his toys were stored. He had fourteen hours to choose his favorites and start packing for Japan.

* * *

"I'm sorry," Mello repeated very, very quietly.

I could feel the older boy's erratic heartbeat through the thin, quilted layer of leather against my ear. I turned my face upwards to meet his eyes and was instantly struck by Mello's pleading, child-like expression. Gone were any traces of the hot-blooded criminal that spied, pilfered and killed – not that I had ever truly seen that side of him. _Not yet, anyway. _

But for now, Mello was cradling me in his arms like I was made out of fine china, apologizing for something that had happened years ago, something that I couldn't even remember.

It felt horrible.

This was exactly why I had given up pressing the Robinsons for details about my past, especially after I had uncovered that obituary for Quillsh Wammy. By their vague answers, I had gotten the distinct impression that they didn't ever want to discuss it with me – so I backed down, unwilling to burden them any more than necessary…the same way I was burdening Mello now.

But I couldn't give up. Not this time.

"Mello," I said firmly, squeezing his hands. "It wasn't your fault. I'd hate to speak ill of the dead, but if there's anyone to blame, it's Beyond Birthday himself. He's the one who started everything."

He averted his gaze. "Well – "

"Excuse me, would you two like anything to drink?" a soft, polite voice interrupted.

I blinked up in surprise at the Japanese woman who had suddenly appeared in the aisle next to Mello, pushing a cart filled with jugs of juice, water and tea.

"No, thank you," I said hurriedly. Mello merely shook his head. As soon as the flight attendant was out of earshot, I turned my attention back to my companion.

"You were saying?" I prodded gently, trying to keep my desperation from creeping into my voice.

"You're going to hate me," Mello finally mumbled, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

"Why would I hate you?"

The blond's slightly tanned skin flushed. "Because I was the one who made things worse," he said stonily. His entire body stiffened, as if he were recalling a particularly painful memory.

"What do you mean?" I asked slowly, alarmed by the way his muscles coiled and tensed beneath my fingertips.

"I…I provoked him."

* * *

…

_It had been three months since that autumn night Alternative had shown me Backup's love letters, if one could even call them as such. Winter was rapidly approaching, and the crystalline specks that frosted our windows and blanketed the fields like thick fluff made sure that all the children at Wammy's House were aware of it. However, the seasonal change wasn't the only thing that everyone had noticed._

_Over the past few weeks, Beyond Birthday had been spotted lurking around the grounds during recess, watching us play from afar. It was the first time anyone had seen him outdoors. Before long, tongues were wagging and the scandalous news spread like wildfire. It didn't take a genius to figure out what he was actually up to._

_Wherever A went, B was bound to be nearby, hiding in the shadows. As a result, Matt and I rarely let Ax and Near out of our sights. _

"Near, I've got you now!" I shouted gleefully as I launched my ice-coated snowball.

There was a flurry of movement as something dark green barreled straight into my rival, sending him toppling backwards into a pile of snow, safe from my lethal projectile.

"Oof!" Near landed on his bottom as his best friend bravely took the blow for him.

L's successor brushed the shards of ice and snow from her coat. "Oi, Mello, it's_ on_!" A hollered at me from across the field, placing her gloved hands on her hips.

"Alright then," I called back. "Bring it, sweetheart!" I bent down to scoop up another clump of snow.

_Thwack._

I snarled in surprise and whirled around to confront the new assailant. "Matt, what the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

The redheaded gamer was doubled over in laughter. "Sorry mate, but your bum was _right _there…"

_Thwackthwackthwack!_

I jumped as I was hit from behind yet again. "I wasn't ready yet!" I barked.

"_Never_ turn your back on an opponent, Mello!" Ax cried triumphantly. On the ground beside her, Near was crouched over a growing cluster of snowballs. His normally blank face was a delighted, rosy pink as he concentrated on patting the balls into perfection before tossing them to his partner, who swiftly lobbed them in Matt's direction.

_Thwackthwack! Crunch!_

"Hey," Matt complained, wiping the flakes and water droplets off his goggles. "Watch the face!"

Soon, the air was thick with flying, packed snow from both sides. I was only half-aware of the arrival of the other orphans, who had crowded around to watch the fight unfold. I only noticed them when someone suddenly cheered, "Go Near, go!"

I whipped my head around in annoyance. It was Linda, who was leaping up and down like a crazed fan, her brown pigtails flopping wildly in the biting wind. The other orphans were clapping and giggling in agreement. I glared at them and stuck my nose up in the air before turning back to the task at hand.

Matt, with his dexterous fingers, and I, with my lightning-fast reflexes and deadly accuracy, slowly but surely advanced on the two younger children. Ax and Near both began to show signs of exhaustion on their small, rounded faces.

"Near, hurry up!" Ax exclaimed. Near's supply of ammunition was shrinking at an impressive rate.

"I can't…" Near's voice faltered as he was struck in the cheek by one of my own.

"Poor Near! Mello, don't be so mean!" Linda wailed from the sidelines. I ignored her.

"You may have the best scores at Wammy's," I jeered at my opponents, "but you're no match for us out here!"

With that, Matt and I moved in for the kill. We darted forward, closing the now-short distance between our teams, and let out our battle cry.

"_M&M forever!"_

I made a beeline straight for Near, tackling him to the ground. Within seconds, he was facedown and eating snow.

"Augh!"

My jaw dropped as Matt fell flat on his face right next to me and Near. While he had been trying to pin Alternative's arms together, the girl had lashed out her leg in one fluid motion, sweeping it backwards to trip the redhead. Now, she was sitting on Matt's sprawled body, waving casually at the audience that we had drawn.

"Game over…nothing else to see here…"

The orphans took the hint, and scurried away to enjoy the rest of their recess. I could hear their excited whispers as they ran off. _"Did you see that? Blimey!"_

Ax's large, hazel eyes sparkled mischievously at me as Matt moaned out in pain beneath her. "Let's call it a draw," she said simply, sticking her hand out in a gesture of good sportsmanship.

"Fine," I choked out, unable to hide my astonishment. I grasped her tiny, gloved hand and shook it.

"Hmm…" Ax mused. "Maybe I shouldn't have done that. L wouldn't be too pleased…" She stood up, and helped the groaning redhead to his feet. I grudgingly lifted my albino victim to his feet as well.

"Thank you, Mello." Near's voice was as cold as the snow that was dripping from his eyelids, nose and mouth. I smirked, enjoying the sight immensely.

"Ax," Matt gasped, frantically brushing his striped coat dry. "What was _that_?"

"It's called capoeira," Alternative explained, smiling mysteriously.

I narrowed my eyes thoughtfully. "That sounds familiar…"

"We learned about it in history class. It was in the Brazilian unit," Near informed me.

"I knew that!" I snapped, irritated that he beat me to it. Near was right. We had briefly touched on the subject several weeks ago. According to our history teacher, it was a sixteenth century art form created by African slaves, combining elements of martial arts, music and dance. It was mainly used for ritualistic sparring.

"So how do _you_ know capoeira?" Matt said curiously, rubbing his knees where Ax had kicked him.

"Well…" Ax lowered her voice. We all leaned in to hear her. "L's been teaching it to me…and B…at our private lessons…"

"Private lessons?" Near and I said in unison. There was an uncharacteristic look of awe and jealousy that flittered across my white-haired rival's features. I was sure that I was wearing a matching expression. Matt, however, merely nodded.

"I should've known," Matt drawled. "In the future, remind me never to mess with you again. Or Beyond, for that matter."

My good mood quickly dissipated at the mention of B's name. I clapped a hand onto Matt's shoulder. "Don't worry, mate. He's just a slimy little git."

As if on cue, Beyond Birthday tumbled out of the trees that had been shielding him from view.

We all froze.

The lanky, pale-limbed teenager lurched towards us like an undead being. His trademark white shirt and grey jeans hung loosely off his almost-skeletal frame, and his mop of ebony hair was plastered all over his pallid face. The older boy's eyes flashed dangerously as he approached our group, his bare feet barely making any noise against the snowy surface of the field.

I automatically stepped in front of Matt and the others to block them from sight. My heart was in my throat. This was the first time Beyond Birthday had exposed himself to us like this, confronting us, out in the open. I was grateful that Linda and the other genii orphans wouldn't be here to witness the altercation.

As Beyond drew closer, the only audible sounds were the keening whistle of the wind and the distant shouts of the Wammy children, who were blissfully making their way back into the warm building.

I broke the silence. "What do you want?" I demanded loudly.

Beyond stopped in his tracks, just several feet away from where we were standing. His thin lips suddenly stretched into a devilish grin. "You know what I want," he rasped, craning his long neck to look behind me. To my disgust and horror, he winked.

"Hello, B." Ax's tone was firm, polite but final. "Mello, let's head inside, shall we?"

"Yeah," Matt piped up suddenly. "It's lunchtime. I heard they're serving hot cocoa."

Beyond's face lit up. "I like sweets," he purred. "Especially _you_, A."

There was a little squeak behind me. It sounded suspiciously like Near.

"Ew. Back off," I hissed fiercely.

Beyond chuckled humorlessly. "It's _Backup_, actually. Alternative, what are doing with these losers?"

"They're my friends," Ax said calmly. She stepped out from behind me and came face to face with L's second successor – and her deranged admirer.

"_We_," Beyond muttered, emphasizing the word, "don't have time for such trivial things such as friends. _We_ only need… each other." He reached down to touch Ax's face.

"Go find someone your own age," I snarled, batting the teenager's claw-like hand away.

"Age?" Beyond withdrew his hand in surprise and stared at me with undisguised mirth. "You're what, thirteen now? Yet…age is but a number…and you, my friend…"

For some reason, his dark, unearthly eyes flickered to the space above my head.

"…don't have – "

"B!" Ax's clear voice rang out. "Don't even think about it!"

The girl's face was blazing with fury. No longer was she the Ax we all knew – Near's cool, little ten-year-old friend. She was instantly another ten years older, and her eyes were filled with immeasurable authority, knowledge and experience. She was L's heir, _A, _the most brilliant mind in all of Wammy's.

Beyond smiled smugly. "Who's going to stop me? L? L's not here, is he?"

"I can," A declared. "And as L's successor, I command your respect. Now, please leave."

The older boy flinched, reeling back as if he'd been punched in the stomach. "But A…"

"What's going on?" I cut in. What was B about to say? "I don't understand."

Beyond gave me a superior, condescending smile. The kind of smile that said _I know something that you don't know_. "There are many things you don't understand, stupid boy."

Something inside me snapped.

"Who are you calling _stupid_?" I roared, launching myself at the older teenager. There was a loud _thud_ as we landed in the snow, rolling and kicking and sending chunks of ice spraying into the air. I threw off my gloves and began to pummel my fists into Beyond's thin body. Much to my frustration, he was able to block every move. He nimbly jumped up and looked at me with amusement.

"Nice try, bitch," Beyond said sleekly as he headbutted me. I gasped as my vision went piercingly white, and I ended up collapsing backwards onto the powdered ground.

"Bitch?" I raged blindly, pain wracking my whole body. "_You're_ the bitch, _Backup_. You're L's bitch and you're A's bitch. You're nothing, you're nobody!"

"Mello!" Matt cried, yanking me to my feet.

I blinked in an attempt to clear my vision. When everything finally came into focus, I immediately noticed that Beyond was as still as a statue. His bloodshot eyes were bugging out of their sockets. Ax, too, was looking at me as if I had suddenly sprouted two heads.

"Come on," Near spoke up. "We should go."

Ax nodded, and turned to leave. I didn't budge, and neither did Beyond Birthday.

"Mels, let's go," Matt said warningly.

"Wait," I panted, adrenaline still pumping through my veins. I wanted to kick him while he was still down.

"You're a fool," Beyond breathed, shaking with unadulterated hatred. "I'm better than you'll ever be."

"_Oh yeah? So tell me, how does it feel being second best? How does it feel not having any friends?" I sneered at him._

_Matt gave my coat a violent tug. "Mels…"_

_Beyond's head jerked back, and an inhuman screech tore from his throat. "Shut up, shut up! Stay away from us! I'll kill you all, just you wait! A's mine, you hear me? She's mine!" He sank to his knees, curling up in a fetal position and burrowing himself deep into the snow. _

_I towered over the fallen genius, savoring my ultimate victory. I couldn't stop smiling, not even when Matt dragged me away from the scene. It was only after Beyond had attacked Alternative one year later when the possibility occurred to me – the possibility that I was the one who had caused him to become stark, raving mad…_

…

Panic seized my heart as I took note of Allie's ashen skin.

"So, do you hate me now?" I spoke softly, feeling sick to my stomach.

Allie opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by an announcement over the plane's PA system.

"_Good morning, passengers. This is your pilot, Ken. We are now crossing over the International Date Line! That's right, it is now Tuesday, the eighth. Please enjoy the rest of the flight; we will be arriving in Japan in approximately five hours." _

I was startled. Where had the last six hours gone?

"Time flies when you're having a good time," Allie said dryly, correctly interpreting my shock.

"Wait, what? You're…you're having a good time?"

Allie sighed. "Not exactly," she admitted. "I should've known you were a bully, Mello."

I winced. "I was thirteen," I said defensively. "And it was nothing compared to what I've done…with my life…" There was a long, awkward silence following my statement.

"That's true."

"So, now what?" I muttered bitterly. "Anything else you want to know?"

"I need some time to let everything sink in," Allie replied quietly.

I heaved a sigh of relief. "Okay."

I was just about to settle in for yet another power nap when I felt something slide across my waist, stroking my hips. My eyes flew open to see Allie's arm draped around my midriff. A warm, fuzzy sensation replaced the cold, diseased guilt that – up until a moment ago – plagued my conscience.

"What are you doing?" I murmured, hating myself for blushing and feeling like, well, a schoolboy.

"Answering your first question. No, Mello, I don't hate you."

I stared at her, slack-jawed.

"It takes a brave person to admit their mistakes," she continued, fixing me with her bright eyes. "You, Mello, must be one of the bravest people I know."

* * *

**A/N: ****Special shout-out: **To **xYourDearlyBeloved**, who was first to review the last chapter! Check out her FOUR GREAT stories. She definitely has mad skills! :O

**Special mention: **To **Kira the Wolf**, whose words of encouragement also keep me going, and going, and going… :D

Thanks also to all you other exquisite readers and reviewers: AnimeGirlZoe, BeyondBirthdayXL, Dr. Who's There, Echo1317, Escaping Dreams, eternalsnowfox, I Love Bleach, MafiaGirl14, MasaJeevas, Rainbow Rant, ShadowedSerenity, the one who loves pickles, TopGearGirl, Usagi323, and VeryWithdrawn! I love you guys, SO DAMN MUCH.


	32. Dilemma in Tokyo

**A/N: Thank you for the incredible response from the last few chapters! ^_^ **

**I'm REALLY sorry about the longer-than-usual delay. I've had a lot of work lately, and it's about to get worse with final exams coming up. Oh, and FF has had a recent tendency to make new chapters vanish from time to time…**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note, just the OC version of A! (:**

**Note: Any Japanese spoken is written as English in Mello's first person POV as well as Mogi's third person POV. **

* * *

**Chapter 32: Dilemma in Tokyo**

* * *

I left Mello alone to resume his nap for the remainder of the flight. I could tell by the dark bags under his closed eyes that he'd been fighting exhaustion for a prolonged period of time. With a tiny twinge of guilt, I realized that this was probably the only break he'd had since our surveillance of Misa.

_Sweet dreams, Mello._

The sleeping boy didn't even stir when I withdrew from his body, slowly unhooking his arm from around my shoulders. For a moment, I studied Mello's unconscious figure, struck by how serene the older boy looked. His crimson-beaded rosary rose and fell with the slight movement of his leather-draped chest, glittering in the pale yellow sunlight that was filtering through the airplane window beside me.

Sinking back into my seat, I leaned my forehead against the cool, glass pane. I closed my eyes, only to open them again a moment later. Unlike Mello, I was too wired to sleep.

_Wammy…Near…Mello…L… _Their names were burning holes into my mind.

I was awed – no, completely _floored_ – by the fact that I had once known L. The more I thought about it, the more fascinated I became. The greatest detective in the world had personally trained _me _to succeed him. It was unfathomable. Even though Near's DNA test had already proven so, there was a part of me that wanted to jump up and scream, "Don't be ridiculous! You've got the wrong person! I can't be A!"

But I didn't, because I was.

The more I heard about my forgotten past, the more complete I felt. Everything that Mello told me seemed hauntingly, yet comfortingly, familiar. And I cherished every bit of it.

Indeed, I owed my very survival and well-being to the Robinsons, but a part of me had always ached for more – the memories that would forever be sealed behind an impenetrable mental wall. _My family, my childhood, my life. _Now all I had to do was extend a hand to touch a piece of that, relive it through someone else's eyes – Mello's eyes. The fun, the suffering, the good times and the bad.

_It's…it's my fault I lost all of that, _I suddenly realized. It wasn't because of an _accident_, as I had been raised to believe. _It was all me._

Hot, scalding shame twisted my gut. _If I hadn't been such a coward, if I hadn't caved into the pressure, if I had been strong enough…then maybe I could've helped L before it was too late. Maybe I could've put a stop to Kira; I could've prevented this mess between Mello and Near, the Mafia, the SPK, their rivalry…maybe, maybe, maybe... _

When the pilot finally announced the landing, I felt a thrill resonate deep within me. As we touched down at Narita Airport, I clenched my fists.

_With a second chance at life comes a second chance at death._

This was it; hunting Kira down was my life now. It was time to live up to my legacy.

_L, I won't let you down again. We'll avenge you – that's a promise._

"Hey."

Mello's low voice pulled me out of my thoughts, like a welcome breath of fresh air after a wipeout. I glanced at the awakened blond, and immediately felt a smile creep onto my face. "Hey yourself," I replied. "Did you have a good rest?"

"Hell yeah," Mello drawled, blissfully smiling back. He lazily stretched out his arms. "I slept like a baby."

My brow twitched in amusement. "I know. You're drooling like one, too."

The older boy froze for a few seconds, surprised, before swiping his hand violently across his jaw. "Thanks," he grumbled. He quickly patted his pockets, presumably searching for a new chocolate bar.

I laughed, feeling my mood lift. "It's actually quite endearing," I informed him lightly.

"Oh, really?" Mello mused, leaning his scarred face closer to mine in apparent interest. "_I'm_ endearing?"

The plane jolted as it hit the runway, and I suddenly found myself knocking foreheads together with my companion. The next thing I knew, I had angled my chin upwards to meet Mello's lips.

"Yes, you are," I mumbled before leaning in to give him a modest peck.

The older boy responded instantly, firmly grasping both sides of my face as he coaxed my mouth open, deepening the kiss. I shuddered when Mello began sliding his tongue against mine. _My God... _I could feel him smirk against my skin as I returned the action in a dazed fervor.

"Damn it, Mello. We're on a plane." I was only vaguely aware of the smattering of applause all around us as the plane came to a complete stop. By the time we released each other, everyone else was already retrieving their luggage from the overhead compartments and traipsing down the aisles.

"Time to go," Mello said roughly, standing up. He looked as dazed as I felt. "You ready?"

I nodded wordlessly, and got to my feet, certain that I was as pink as he was. As we swiftly made our way out of the cabin, I pressed a finger to my tingling lips. My heart fluttered. They were warm to the touch.

_Careful_, a voice in the back of my mind murmured, _or you'll just crash and burn again._

I ignored it.

* * *

Mogi and Misa were one of the first ones to leave the plane. As soon as they reached the baggage claim area, the former idol snapped her manicured fingers.

"Motchi, please fetch Misa's things. Misa needs to go freshen up!" Misa promptly scurried away, leaving the large Japanese man to tend to the girl's luggage himself.

Mogi's muscles were aching stiff from the long, eleven-hour flight. Nevertheless, the man dutifully stationed himself at the carousel, patiently watching for the first signs of Misa's possessions.

_What the…?_

Something among the moving bags caught Mogi's eye as it passed him. As if magnetically drawn to it, Mogi inconspicuously followed it along the conveyor belt, intent on making sure he hadn't been imagining things. It was a plain green duffel bag, small and easily forgettable – save for one thing.

The nametag.

Two minutes later, Misa had returned from the bathroom and was nagging him for running around instead of finding her things. Chastised, Mogi heaved the two matching, cream-colored bags off the platform. He trailed behind Misa as they weaved their way through the crowded terminal, out of Narita Airport, and into the even busier streets.

"It's good to be home, eh Motchi?" Misa sighed as she flagged down a mustard-yellow taxi.

"Yes…"

The Japanese girl's cheerful expression momentarily faltered. "Misa will miss L.A…but at least Misa will be back with Light soon!"

"That's right," Mogi said, fighting to keep his features blank. The blonde beamed at him and gracefully slid into the waiting car.

With a heavy heart, Mogi placed their bags into the open trunk. He had been barely able to contain his disapproval when Light announced his plans to _personally talk _with Kiyomi Takada, under the pretense that the police were interested in asking Kira for instructions. According to Light, they could track Kira down by finding out how Takada was getting in touch with him. Not only was she a Kira worshipper, Light claimed, she was also their long-awaited, golden opportunity.

Matsuda and Ide had quickly jumped at the suggestion; Aizawa, unsurprisingly, voiced his desire to listen in on their conversations.

Mogi had stayed silent as usual, careful not to let anyone know his dilemma.

And now, he had yet another one at hand.

* * *

As soon as we'd picked up Allie's bag, we were high-tailing it out of the airport after Mogi and Misa, careful not to let the couple out of our sights. We hadn't come all this way just to lose them.

"Follow that taxi," I ordered in fluent Japanese as we jumped into the nearest cab. "And step on it, please."

The driver nodded, his dark eyes lingering on the scar that marred half of my face. I had an inkling of suspicion that the only reason he wasn't refusing us was because Allie, at least, appeared normal.

"You speak Japanese?" Allie piped up once we drove off. She looked impressed. Behind us, Narita Airport was rapidly disappearing into the distance.

"Yeah," I said indifferently. "Along with nine other languages."

Her thin eyebrows shot up in astonishment. "Damn_,_" she exclaimed, not bothering to lower her voice. It didn't matter, though. The driver couldn't understand a word we were saying.

"That's nothing," I admitted. "We were trained at Wammy's to know at least ten."

Allie blinked. "I see," she said slowly. She began to toy with the ends of her shortened hair, looking wistful. I was immediately and unpleasantly reminded of Near.

"Do you know any Japanese?" I asked, tearing my eyes away from the sight of her twirling fingers.

"Uh, not really," Allie muttered sheepishly. "I only know how to say _thank you_."

I clicked my tongue thoughtfully. "Are you a fast learner?"

The younger girl nodded enthusiastically. "Are you a good teacher?"

I snickered at this. "It depends."

And so we spent the next hour practicing phrases, mostly tourist phrases, while making sure to glance up once every few minutes to check on Mogi's car. I couldn't help but swell with pride at how quickly Allie was grasping the foreign words, as if she were simply learning lines for a new play. By the time the cab finally pulled up in front of a downtown hotel, she had already perfected the pronunciations and committed her new – but limited – vocabulary to memory.

I nudged Allie, squinting through the window at Mogi and Misa, who had already unloaded their luggage from their taxi and were pushing through the revolving entrance of the hotel. _So this is where they're staying...but _this _can't be their headquarters. It's too easily accessible…_

The driver coughed delicately.

"Thank you for your service," Allie told the driver hurriedly, her accent rough but lilting.

"How much is the fare?" I grunted, straightening in my seat.

The man turned around, casting me a wary look. "Normally, I would charge thirty-thousand yen…"

My hand twitched at this.

"…but you are a police officer, no?" he finished hesitantly, his eyes travelling from my face to my waist. I glanced down to follow his gaze. _Oh crap._

My leather jacket was conveniently swept to the side, exposing the holster and gun strapped at my hip. I casually fixed my top. "We appreciate it," I said primly, dodging the question. "You are a good citizen."

The driver visibly relaxed. "Thank you, Officer. Have a nice day."

"Have a nice day," Allie and I echoed, unlocking our doors. I was halfway out of the taxi when the Japanese man spoke up again.

"May Kira bless your souls," he uttered formally, like the hundreds, thousands, even millions of other trained workers whose companies publicly and pompously supported Kira.

I stopped dead in my tracks.

In that moment, right then and there, I contemplated drawing my weapon and putting a hole right through the man's skull. I could already picture the grey interior of the car being splattered with fresh pieces of bone and brain. All I could hear were the sacrilegious words repeating themselves, over and over and over again, bouncing back and forth in my black and red world. It was only when I felt Allie's warm, steadying hand on my shoulder that I snapped out of my trance.

"Mello, what's wrong? What did he just say?" she whispered.

"Nothing important," I lied as calmly as I could. Internally, my blood was simmering. Before I could do something that I would've done back in the Mafia if someone had offended me, something that I would've ended up secretly regretting, I leapt out of the car – right into the open heart of Tokyo, Japan.

* * *

"Ah, welcome back, Mogi-san."

Light Yagami stood waiting for them in the middle of the hotel room, in all his sharply-pressed, neatly-ironed glory.

"Light!" Misa squeaked, shrugging off her purses and throwing her arms around her fiancé's neck, wrinkling his brand new tie. "Misa has missed you, sooooo much!"

"Hello, Misa." Mogi could hear the barely-veiled note of impatience in Light's voice. The auburn-haired boy – no, _man_ – stared over Misa's golden pigtails at the quiet detective.

"Light," Mogi acknowledged his superior, setting down Misa's luggage by the satin couch.

Light tugged off Misa's arms, which had suddenly snaked around his abdomen. The girl pouted, and awkwardly stepped back. "So," she chirped brightly, "why are you dressed so well today? Is Light taking Misa out on a welcome-home date later tonight?"

"I'm sorry Misa," Light sighed. "I have things to do for the investigation."

Misa narrowed her brown eyes shrewdly. "Misa doesn't like that tone…"

"What tone?" Light inquired, crossing his arms.

"Light is hiding something from Misa!"

_She got you there, _Mogi thought to himself. He shrugged his broad shoulders when Light threw him an exasperated look that said, _Mogi, help me out here?_

"Misa, don't be disappointed," Light said with a heavy sigh. "But I'm meeting with Ki – Kira's spokesperson tonight."

Misa's eyes were pure slits. "Disappointed? No, Misa isn't _disappointed_, Misa is angry! Kira's spokesperson is _Kiyomi_. You have a date with _her _tonight?" the blonde hissed, turning tomato-red.

"As I said, Misa…it's for the investigation. It's not a date. I love you, and only you," Light said earnestly. He held out his arms again, and Misa immediately melted into his embrace.

_Misa…_

"Misa," Light murmured, stroking the girl's hair. "I need you to do me a favor, a huge favor. It's for the good of the investigation…you too, Mogi-san," he added, looking up at Mogi.

"Yes…?"

"We need someone inside NHN," Light explained, his chocolate-brown eyes glimmering with determination. "We have to investigate Miss Takada in order to track Kira down. Can you do that for me, Misa?"

"Y-yes!" the girl answered breathlessly. She was glowing with pride.

"You'll have to be extra careful though. Mogi-san, can you go with her as her manager? NHN currently has an opening for their annual New Year's concert. You can easily arrange it through Yoshida Productions." It sounded as though Light had already thought things through.

Mogi nodded. "Just give me a few days."

"Alright. I have to get back to headquarters now. Thank you for keeping Misa safe."

Mogi nodded again, and braced himself for the inevitable question. Light released Misa, who staggered over to the bed and plopped herself down onto it, finally feeling the effects of jet lag. Pulling on his black blazer, Light strolled towards the door. Before he turned the handle, though, he turned around and arched a perfectly-shaped brow at Mogi.

"Any tails?" Light asked quietly.

Mogi didn't even hesitate. "None," he said, looking him straight in the eye.

It was a lie.

* * *

**A/N: Ah, they're FINALLY, FINALLY, FINAAALLYYY in Japan. Does anyone else smell a showdown?**

**Thanks for reading! **

**Special shout-out: **To **xYourDearlyBeloved**, who was first to review the last chapter! Check out her story, **Being Near**. I swear, it's the best Near fic I've ever read! :O

Thanks also to all you other awesome readers, and the following reviewers: **AnimeGirlZoe, BeyondBirthdayXL, C. Holywell-Black, Dr. Who's There, Echo1317, Escaping Dreams, eternalsnowfox, I Love Bleach, Kira the Wolf, MafiaGirl14, MasaJeevas, -patterns-at-dusk-, Rainbow Rant, ShadowedSerenity, the one who loves pickles, TopGearGirl, Usagi323, **and **VeryWithdrawn**! You guys rock! :D


	33. You've Got Mail

**A/N:**** Ta-da, a new chapter, please enjoy! Thanks so much for the positive feedback from the last one O:**

**Disclaimer:**** This is just a fan fiction, of course (: **

**Note: NHN is an allusion to Japan's broadcasting company NHK, which is located in Shibuya, Tokyo. So I'll be basing the current location on that. **

* * *

**Chapter 33: You've Got Mail**

* * *

The pieces were gradually, but surely, falling into place.

As two of L's successors lurked outside Shibuya Tobu Hotel in downtown Tokyo, another was boarding the red-eye to Narita from JFK Airport with his second-in-command and two favorite robots in hand. A fourth was nearly halfway there, and was currently flirting with a leggy flight attendant to allow him to light up.

Four heirs, three geniuses, two goals...

...and one common enemy.

* * *

We had been loitering in front of the elegant hotel – from a safe distance across the street, of course – for a good ten minutes when I finally decided to ask the obvious.

"Mello, what exactly are we doing out here?"

Mello turned to me, his eyes sharp and focused. "When you stayed with Amane, what did you think of her?"

I was caught off guard, unprepared for the sudden question.

_Misa Amane_... She had nosed into my school's _Mulan _production, challenged my leading role, gotten drunk in public, dragged me out shopping when I had homework to do, and talked my ear off about missing Light and her celebrity lifestyle. But she had also helped me with my lines, saved our lives from a potential attacker, and most importantly, taken me in out of the goodness – or loneliness – of her heart. I couldn't say that I liked her exactly. But Misa had grown on me, like a fungus, in the same way I suspected she had grown on Kanzo Mogi.

But I had a feeling that wasn't the answer Mello was looking for, so I chose my words carefully. "I didn't see anything _suspicious_... I don't think she's the Second Kira anymore. But people are still dying, right?"

Mello nodded. "The notebook is obviously no longer in her possession. She must've forfeited it to someone else. The question is, _who_?"

My cheeks filled with color when his bright blue eyes drilled into mine expectantly. I bit my lip thoughtfully. "Maybe... Kira's new spokesperson?" I suggested. A sense of dread flared up inside me.

Ever since the beginning of the weekend, NHN's Kiyomi Takada had been making several profound announcements on behalf of Kira. One of her recent statements included punishing people who did nothing to contribute to society, as well as those who had a criminal record. But even that was nothing compared to what she'd said last night, when she expressed her desire for Kira to give orders to the armed and police forces around the world.

It was outrageous. Yet, even CNN had replayed the clip without so much as batting an eye.

I felt it in my bones, and I was sure Mello could feel it too. The world was slowly, but certainly, slipping into Kira's iron cage.

"That would defeat the purpose of needing a spokesperson, and there's no way Takada's using the notebook when she's always out in the public's eye. No, there's someone else behind the scenes," Mello mused, stroking his chin.

"That's true," I admitted, feeling like an amateur. I was about to point out another glaring possibility when I clamped my mouth shut. _Why bother? I'll just embarrass myself again. _

Mello noticed my hesitation. "What is it, Allie?"

_Or, she could just be__ hiding in plain sight. _

"Uh, nothing," I replied hastily. "I just have a bad feeling about Takada, that's all. She's too..." I struggled to find the right word. "...too _popular_."

The blond snorted. "She's nothing but Kira's tool," he said scathingly. His eyes had suddenly taken on a hard, icy glint. "She's a wannabe goddess. However... she's our only lead so far," he continued, casting the hotel one last glance before pulling out his cell phone. "We'll start with her."

* * *

The phone rang five times before it picked up.

"That took you long enough," I snarled.

There was a brief crackle of static as the person on the other line inhaled sharply. _"Who is this?" _a male voice finally demanded.

"What the hell? Gevanni? Where's Halle?" I snapped.

"_Mello?" _Gevanni said incredulously.

"Of course it's me, you idiot. Put Halle on."

"_Lidner's not here right now."_

I rolled my eyes. "Well then, where is she?" A long silence followed my words. "Well?" I repeated.

"_Lidner may have no qualms about working with you, but I have no interest in sharing my information with the likes of you."_

"What?" I gripped the phone tightly. "What do you mean by _the likes of _me?"

"_You're a murderer_," the man responded calmly. _"Near may have forgiven you for killing half our team, but I haven't."_

I hadn't been expecting such resistance from him. "Gevanni, stop fucking around. We all agreed to help each other, if you haven't already forgotten."

"_I only do as Near instructs. He__ hasn't said what – "_

"Listen," I cut him off. "All I want to know is how Halle is doing. I'm already aware of the fact that she's already trying to get close to Takada."

There was another lengthy stretch of silence. _"Oh. In that case..." _Gevanni growled in defeat before continuing. "_Right now, Lidner is undergoing intensive testing for Takada's guard. She's one of the twenty finalists." _

"I see," I muttered. "Well, we'll see what we can – "

"_We?" _Gevanni asked coolly.

"Allie and I are both in Japan," I clarified. "We're also starting with Takada – "

At this, Gevanni made a strangled noise. I looked up and met Allie's disturbed gaze.

"_Don't do anything stupid," _the SPK member barked into the phone. _"You're going to cost us the investigation!"_

"So far, your subtleties have gotten you nowhere."

"_We have new leads now. Near knows what he is doing."_

"So do I," I shot back.

"_C__overt action is the only constructive form of action which should be undertaken at this moment in time!"_

I sneered at his cocky tone. "I disrespectfully disagree."

"_Think of the girl,_" Gevanni argued. _"You'll be putting her in danger."_

_That bastard. _"Shut the hell up," I hissed fiercely, raising my proverbial hackles.

Gevanni paused. _"What would...L do?"_

"You asshole, _you_ had no right to say that!" Irked, I snapped the phone shut, disconnecting the call. Allie watched me questioningly as I tucked the cell into my jacket.

"Let's go," I said abruptly, reaching for Allie's hand. I laced my gloved fingers through hers, stroking her palm with my thumb. I felt slightly nauseous, not unlike how I used to feel after blowing someone's head off. Gevanni's words had struck a nerve within me.

_Allie'__s aware of the consequences. She knows this will be dangerous, if it isn't already. We're all risking our lives here. _

"What are we doing?" Allie inquired, looking at our intertwined hands. She squeezed back, and I felt my unease fade away.

_What would L do?_

I knew the answer. It was the answer I had been ignoring for five years.

_He would watch, wait for proof, __and then move in for the kill. And he would do all this purely for justice._

Allie nudged me, her face a mix of curiosity and apprehension. "Mello?"

"House hunting," I blurted out, jerking my head towards the forest green bus that had just pulled over to a stop beside the curb. I grinned when Allie instantly turned bright pink. "For new headquarters, of course."

"I see," she spluttered, staring fixedly at the droves of tourists and citizens alike that were spilling out onto the sidewalk.

_Maybe Gevanni'__s right, _I thought as we boarded the bus. I sifted through my pockets for four 100-yen coins, and dropped them into the farebox.

It went against all of my instincts, against my very nature. But ever since the explosion last month, I _had_ been lying relatively low. It couldn't hurt to wait a bit longer.

However – as Matt put it – surveillance was _boring_. It wasn't until Allie had shown up that things had started looking up. She had blown back into our lives just when we were at our most vulnerable – Near, who had just fled from Demegawa and Kira's clutches, and I, who had just recovered from the showdown with the Japanese Taskforce.

It was as if L, from beyond the grave, had given us a heaven-sent push into the right direction.

At the moment, the girl's back was crushed up against my chest as a result of the crowded conditions of the bus. I rested my chin atop Allie's head, allowing myself a fond little smile as I imagined being holed up with _her_ for days, weeks, even months on end.

Maybe stealth wouldn't be such a bad idea, after all.

* * *

Despite being squashed between a metal pole and a handful of other people's bodies – including Mello's – I enjoyed the bus ride immensely. I couldn't help but gape like the foreign tourist I was at the sights rushing by outside the tinted fiberglass.

Stunning, silvery, neon-lit buildings unlike any of those in Los Angeles towered over the scene like neat Lego columns. Signs flashed, windows glittered, and people rolled through the streets like a cascade of multi-colored marbles. It was absolutely _packed_, brimming with energy and vividness.

We were in Tokyo. _Tokyo! _I resisted the urge to jump up and down on the spot.

Travelling the world was one of my biggest dreams, and here I was in Tokyo. Never would I have imagined that I'd be doing it with Mello, instead of my family. In just over one week, I had gone from not ever having consciously stepped on a plane to flying back and forth across America and then trotting over the ocean to the other side of the globe.

After ten minutes, I couldn't hold it in any longer. "This is pretty amazing," I said under my breath. "Wouldn't you agree?"

"Don't get too excited," Mello breathed into my ear. "Kira was born here, remember?"

I twisted my head around to face him. My eyes raked over his scar, his tense features, and the rosary dangling against his inner vest. "And this is where he will die," I whispered back, flashing him a sweet smile. Mello stared at me, his expression unreadable. Then, out of the blue, he smirked and flicked my nose.

"I like your attitude."

"Well, someone has to be the optimist."

The bus shuddered to a stop, and we were suddenly jostled by the surging stream of passengers that were scrambling off the bus.

"We get off here too," Mello declared before I could ask, pulling me along through the crowd. We stumbled into the dim, afternoon sunlight and platinum-sealed landscape around us.

"Where are we going?" I asked breathlessly, almost tripping when Mello began to run without warning.

"We're about a mile from the NHN studio," Mello explained as I sprinted to keep up with him. "We need to look for a place that's close by and low-key or private enough to avoid being found. Now that we're in Japan, we'll never know if the NPA has facial recognition software hidden on the streets or something along those lines. And if they can get to us, so can the new Second Kira. It may sound far-fetched, but I'm not taking any chances."

"That makes sense… do you have a specific location in mind?" I was growing tired with each passing second. Jet-lag was already starting to take its toll on me.

"Yeah, it's a former Yakuza hideout," Mello responded offhandedly. "A few of my men had a run-in with them a few months ago."

I almost choked on my spit.

It wasn't too long before we found ourselves in a narrow road on the outskirts of the entertainment district. Internet cafes and music stores littered one side of the street, while ancient-looking souvenir shops and dingy restaurants lined the other.

"This also used to be a popular spot for dealers," Mello told me quietly as we slowed down to a light jog. "Kira cleared most of them out."

He guided me into a grimy, narrow alleyway that I never would've dared to step foot in if I had been alone. Fading graffiti decorated the enclosing brick walls, and there were copper-colored stains that smeared the pipes snaking up the sides of the buildings. I had a sinking suspicion that it wasn't rust.

"This is pretty shady…" I commented, taking in the sight of the rotting, wooden door at the end of the passage.

"Well, this is our new home." Mello gave the door a firm kick. The wood whined loudly as his combat boot came into contact with it. "Ladies first."

I grimaced before gingerly stepping over the threshold. The room was dark, but there was enough light coming through the door and cracked windows to make out the collection of leather chairs sitting by the wall, right next to a bunch of bullet-ridden mannequins. The checkerboard linoleum floor creaked under our weight as Mello and I ventured deeper into the abandoned shop. I tried the switch, but to no avail.

"Are you sure this is a good idea? Can't we lay low somewhere else?" I whispered. Even though there was no one else there, it felt appropriate to whisper.

"Until Matt can get us a better place, we have no choice but to slum it here for a while," Mello muttered. "He should be here in a day or two."

I shivered violently as a breeze blew through the open entrance, and hugged my duffel bag in an attempt to keep warm. "Mello, this place is a dump," I protested awkwardly, fully aware that I sounded like a brat. What had I been expecting, anyway? A five-star hotel?

"It'll just be for a while," Mello said soothingly. "It's the best hideout I can think of." He went to close the door, his boots clicking against the chipped tiles. Then I felt him move behind me until his arms wrapped around my waist, the leather tickling my skin. A comfortable, buzzing warmth filled me from head to toe. We stayed that for a while, unmoving and silent. This wasn't so bad.

We both jumped when Mello's stomach began to rumble. Mello leapt back, mortified as he frantically dug through his jacket.

"Damn it," Mello swore. "I ate my last bar on the plane."

"I have an apple pie," I offered, suddenly remembering the baked dish that Mogi had given me earlier that morning. I unzipped my bag and pulled it out.

Even in the dim lighting, I could see the strange expression on Mello's face. "Why do you have a pie in your bag?"

"Mogi gave it to me," I said, unwrapping the cellophane. "You can have it. Think of it as a housewarming gift."

"Don't you want some?"

"Nah," I said tiredly, tossing my bag aside. "I'm too wiped out to eat. I need to sit down." With that, I made my way over to the leather armchairs. I selected one at random, wiped the dust off with my bare hands, and plopped myself down.

* * *

Allie was out cold in no time. I watched her sleep as I ate, chewing luxuriously on the cold dessert. It was good, but it was nothing compared to the decadent, cocoa creaminess I craved.

_So, you've proven you can rough it out. _

I was pleased that Allie had settled in, even after initially complaining. The truth was that I had enough yen to last us an evening at an inn– but I had decided against it. Running through the streets had told me that not all corruption had completely vanished from the heart of Japan. I suspected that a third of the motels we had passed on our way here were actually love hotels in disguise. I had no intention of stooping that low, or freaking the girl out.

_And, this way, I could see if Allie had the will to do whatever it takes._

When I finished the pie, I scooted my chair over to my companion. Allie had slumped down against the armrest, her chestnut hair fanning across her cheeks. I brushed the strands back, and planted a feather-soft kiss on her lips. She didn't react at all. Her skin was cold, like the musty air of the vacant store.

I sighed, yanking off my leather jacket. I draped it carefully over the dozing girl before sinking back into my own seat. I brought my knees up to my chest as I waited…

…and waited.

It was exactly 9 P.M., Japan Standard Time, when the emergency exit slowly creaked open.

I shot off the armchair, my hand drifting to my gun as I cautiously approached the door. "Who's there?" I hissed.

A lanky, shadowy figure slipped through, creeping into the room like an exaggerated ninja. That's when I dropped my hand and chuckled from sheer relief.

"Matt," I groaned. "What took you so long?"

* * *

**A/N: Hehehe, now that our favorite geek is back in the picture, THE FUN SHALL SOON BEGIN. **

**Thanks for reading, and reviews would be greatly appreciated! (: **

**Special shout-out: **To **xYourDearlyBeloved**, who was first to review the last chapter! Check out her stories, because they would totally rock your world. Not exaggerating!

Thanks also to all you other awesome alerters/favoriters/readers, and the following people: **AnimeGirlZoe, BeyondBirthdayXL, C. Holywell-Black, Dani AnneMarie, Dr. Who's There, Echo1317, Escaping Dreams, eternalsnowfox, I Love Bleach, Kira the Wolf, MafiaGirl14, MasaJeevas, -patterns-at-dusk-, Rainbow Rant, ShadowedSerenity, the one who loves pickles, TopGearGirl, Usagi323, **and **VeryWithdrawn**! Your reviews make my day!


	34. The Perin Hotel

**A/N: Thanks for the incredible response, you guys! The story has just reached 5000 hits and I'm just utterly overwhelmed right now.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note, or the Perin Hotel (which is in the manga)...or Transformers, which Mello indirectly quotes.**

**Note: ****In addressing several reviewers' questions, I'd like to say that I'm leaving certain deaths as a surprise (whether it's pleasant or unpleasant, you'll have to wait and see) **

* * *

**Chapter 34: The Perin Hotel**

* * *

"_I'm afraid I'll have to cancel our next session, A. An important case is commanding my attention."_

"_It's the Kira case, isn't it?"_

_The blurry figure nodded. "If I die, you'll be entrusted with it. Do you understand?"_

"_Of course..."_

"_You sound uncertain, A."_

"_No, I just – you won't die."_

"_I won't die in vain," he corrected me._

"_What...what are you planning to do?"_

"_If it comes to it, I may have to reveal myself to the outside world for the very first time."_

"_That's suicide."_

"_No, it's sacrifice."_

"_...I don't see the difference."_

_The faceless man stood up, signaling my dismissal. "One day, you will."_

"ARGH!"

I woke up with a yelp as something long and pointy jabbed into my stomach. I automatically scrambled off the chair, feeling something heavy fall off my body and thud onto the floor.

_What the heck...? _

I squinted through the darkness, just making out two shadowy figures that were hovering to the side. "What's going on?" I blindly outstretched an arm, while my mind subconsciously raced to grasp onto the remnants of my rapidly fading dream.

_Wait...no...no... _My heart sank as it completely vanished, slipping away like a wet eel.

"Matt, get the lights."

"As you wish," a jaunty voice rang out. The pitch-black room was instantly illuminated by a burst of blazing blue energy, which was originating from...

...a Nintendo DS.

The game console was cradled in the palms of oversized black gloves, which were attached to the striped limbs of a very recognizable boy.

"Hi, Matt," I said hoarsely, rubbing my belly where he had prodded me awake.

"Long time no see." Matt grinned down at me. "Sorry about that, mate. We have to get going, that's all."

"How did you find us so fast?"

With a flick of his wrist, he showed us the display on the screen of his DS. On it, a single red dot pulsed. "I tracked down Mello's cell phone," he said casually, chewing on the unlit cigarette poking out of the corner of his mouth. "Pinpointing your location was a piece of cake."

"Well, you sure took your sweet time getting here," Mello muttered, rubbing his bare arms. He bent down to retrieve his leather jacket, which had somehow ended up on the floor at my feet.

"On the contrary," I told the former redhead. "We were expecting you to arrive tomorrow."

"Actually, I was exaggerating." Mello looked at me apologetically.

"Why would you..." I frowned when I realized what he'd meant. "Oh. Was it to see my reaction?"

Mello nodded, smiling guiltily at me. I immediately felt embarrassed of the way I had complained earlier.

"Great," I sighed. "Thanks for that."

"Yeah, well... thanks for the pie."

Matt suddenly spluttered, and the DS wobbled dangerously in his hand, which sent beams of azure light dancing and scattering around the abandoned shop. "Do I even want to know?"

"Matt, grow up!" Mello snapped. "Are you hooking us up with a new place or what?"

Matt smirked mischievously. "Yeah, and I think you'll like it. I got us a room at the Perin Hotel."

"That place costs a fortune." I stared at the gangly boy in admiration, while he and Mello exchanged high-fives.

"Well, it's going to cost _us_..." The hacker paused dramatically, wriggling his eyebrows. "... nothing!"

* * *

After Matt's pronouncement, I quickly ushered him and Allie out of the ex-Yakuza hideout. We stepped out into the cold alleyway, all three of us simultaneously sucking in lungfuls of relatively fresh oxygen. The moon was shining brightly above us, like a white-gold coin against dark velvet cloth, throwing into relief the cobbled pavement leading out to the street.

"The first thing we need to do is get some proper transportation," I informed my two companions.

"That's already been arranged," Matt said airily. He pointed to the contraption parked next to one of the sidewalk's urban street trees, and I did a double take. Similarly, Allie's jaw dropped.

I stifled a snort. "No freakin' way."

It was another Camaro, the exact same model as Matt's original – a 1970 Chevy SS. From underneath the glow of the neon signs that lit up the street, I could tell that it had been through a lot. The coat of lemon-yellow paint was badly chipped and scratched, and there was a hairline crack that ran along the windshield.

"Gee, Matt," I quipped dryly. "If you could get us into the Perin, how did you end up with this piece of crap?"

"Hey, there's a difference between hacking into a few files and jacking the first Camaro I came across."

"You stole it." Allie's voice was torn between amusement and disapproval.

Matt shook his head, smiling innocently. "I'd like to think of it as _borrowing_. It _is _for the greater good."

My grin faltered. It was strange, hearing it put that way. _The greater good... _The concept was still foreign to me.

"Won't someone report it missing?" Allie asked pointedly.

Matt folded his arms, gazing lovingly at the Camaro before us. "After I'm done with this baby, no one's gonna recognize her."

I scratched my head. "Let me guess. You're painting it red."

"Oh, Mello. You know me _so_ well."

Soon, we found ourselves cruising down the streets of downtown Shibuya. I wordlessly watched Tokyo's vivid winter nightlife whiz by our metal and leather cocoon. The silence in the car was so thick, it was almost tangible. A sickening awareness that we were treading in dangerous waters hung over our heads like an impenetrable cloud.

It wasn't until we arrived at the hotel fifteen minutes later that I decided to speak up.

"Why did you pick the Perin, of all places?"

Matt drove carefully through the parking lot, scowling deeply at the lack of available spots. "Kiyomi Takada was here last night, having a _rendezvous_." The goggled gamer drew out the last word suggestively.

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. "How do you know?"

"The truth is... Near told me. He emailed me a copy of his commander's report just this morning."

"Huh," I forced out. The tiny muscle under my eye twitched.

Allie leaned forward from the backseat. "Who was she meeting with?"

Matt shrugged, throwing me a wary look. "No one knows – not even Takada's guards. And that's not all..."

"What, Matt?" I had a sinking feeling I knew what his next words were going to be. I held my breath.

"He wants us to do whatever it takes to find out who she saw."

My vision went red, and I exhaled noisily. "_He_...wants... us...?" I repeated in a deadly hiss, the vein in my forehead throbbing dangerously. "_Wants us?_"

"Well, Rester couldn't do it..." Matt trailed off, shifting into reverse. He had finally found a parking space in the far end of the property. I waited until he turned off the engine before shoving my face right into his.

"You should've mentioned this earlier," I snarled. "I would've preferred to stay in that shithole."

Matt barely even flinched. "Damn it, Mello. I thought we were all in this _together_."

"That doesn't mean we have to obey Near's every whim!"

"This is our only lead so far. Do you have a better idea?" Matt retorted sharply. I drew back in surprise.

_No, _I realized, _I don't. In fact, if I were Near, I'd probably ask me to do the same thing._

I was just being stubborn – for the sake of being stubborn.

"I think it's a good idea," Allie mumbled quietly. "I'll be outside." Before I could respond, she slung her bag over her back and climbed out of the car. I moved to open my door as well, but Matt seized my shoulder to stop me.

Matt yanked off his goggles, stuffing them into the pockets of his fleece vest. His eyes bore right into mine. "Are you forgetting that they were best friends?"

"Of course not," I snapped, startled by the force of his piercing gaze.

"Then lay off the hate, Mello. It's not productive."

"I don't exactly _hate _him. I just don't particularly... like him."

"I know for a fact that Near likes _you_. Give him a chance."

I was silent for a moment. _He's never spoken to me like this before_. "Matt, that's like asking me to give up chocolate cold turkey," I replied stiffly.

Matt huffed. "And you keep telling _me _to grow up. You'd do good to heed your own advice. Near isn't a bad person. So what if he ranked higher than you all those years ago?"

I scoffed. "I don't give a damn about that anymore. Do you want to know what I _really _hate? The fact that we're putting our necks on the line, while Near continues to hide behind his computers all the fucking time."

"That's not true. Near's coming to Japan."

"Good for him," I said, sarcasm dripping from my voice. "And once he gets here, he'll just go into hiding again and make his people do all the dirty field work."

"But we're also in hiding," Matt pointed out.

"There's a big difference between what we're doing and what _he's _doing!"

"Mello, be honest. You wouldn't have it any other way."

I clenched my fists. There was a grain of truth in that statement. Perhaps, deep down, I _needed _to be distinguishable from Near. The boy was the epitome of my burning will to succeed; _he _was the one I wanted to beat, _he_ was the reason I forced myself to cross lines he wouldn't dare to. My lust to surpass him had surpassed any other lust I'd ever felt, including my thirst to avenge L...

"...until now," I whispered.

"What was that?"

I was glad for the night's cover of darkness, which I knew was partially shrouding my heated face. I had no desire for Matt to witness yet another moment of weakness. "You're right. Let's just go with it and see where it takes us. If anything goes wrong, we'll just blame it on Near."

My best friend clapped me heartily on the back. "That's more like it. We're gonna be unstoppable, just wait and see."

"I hate waiting," I ground out_._

"It'll be worth it, Mels."

* * *

I had been lingering by the back entrance for ten minutes when Mello and Matt finally materialized. The two men were laden with pieces of luggage, which I assumed all belonged to Matt.

"Hey," Mello greeted me awkwardly. "Er... sorry about that."

"It's okay," I assured him, and I meant it. I was in no position to judge him; I knew it would take a lifetime to understand Mello's complex relationship with Near. Yet, I could still remember the way the latter's dark grey eyes had silently thanked me before we left the SPK headquarters. I was certain the younger boy held nothing but cordiality for his so-called rival.

"Yeah, Mello can get a little feisty sometimes. But you already know that, don't you?"

"You prat!" There was a flurry of motion as Mello swung his bags at the other boy, who nimbly dodged the attack. The luggage landed at Matt's feet with a loud _thump_.

"Watch it, you might damage the goods." Matt haughtily smoothed down the front of his ribbed jeans.

"What goods?" I interrupted, eyeing them curiously.

"Heh heh, my...oh, you mean the bags?" After casting a furtive glance at our surroundings, he unzipped the four packs with a flourish. Mello and I leaned in to peer at the contents.

The first two contained several laptops, cameras, disposable phones, headsets, and plenty of other equipment I couldn't recognize. The third bag was stuffed with clothes and accessories.

My gaze fell on the last bag, which was the smallest of the lot – and my eyes bulged out in complete shock.

_Grenades._

"W-whoa..." I gasped. "Where the hell did you get these?"

"I made these babies myself," Matt said in a low voice. "They're just smoke bombs, don't worry." He rummaged through the canisters and pulled out a gun in size of a small cannon. "And this is the launcher."

"Holy crap!"

"Put it away," Mello said tightly, his eyes darting around us.

Matt obediently returned the gun to its stash of ammunition. "Alright, are you guys ready?" he asked seriously. At his question, a chill ran down my spine. I nodded.

"Then it's _show time_."

* * *

"Good evening, and welcome to the Perin Hotel. Minako Yamura, at your service."

The words rolled off the native Japanese woman's tongue automatically as she straightened her back and patted out the wrinkles from her pencil uniform skirt. She blinked expectantly at the three guests before her; two tall, imposing males flanking a smaller girl. Minako had directed the greeting more or less towards her rather than her strangely-dressed Caucasian companions, who were both wearing sunglasses. _Bodyguards, perhaps?_

The Eurasian girl shot the blond a meaningful look, and he dutifully stepped forward to the counter. Minako couldn't help but recoil with fright at the sight of his ruined face. But when the young man spoke, her anxiety was instantly swept away.

"Thank you for your assistance. We have a family suite booked for the week," the scarred male explained smoothly. His Japanese was so perfect, it almost sounded sensual coming out of his mouth.

"Ah, may I have your name, please?"

"House," the other man piped up. "We have already paid in advance." His accent was also flawless.

Minako's fingers flew across her keyboard, and a single reservation came up on the screen of her computer. "Suite 1212… yes, of course! Enjoy your stay," she beamed, handing over the gold-colored card key to the girl.

"Thank you," the girl said simply, politely dipping her head. The three of them quickly left without another word, as if they were eager to tend to important business...

Minako Yamura, of course, knew all about important business – especially when it involved the Perin Hotel's celebrity guests, the most recent being Japan's newest icon… Kiyomi Takada.

Last night, Kira's very own spokesperson had stayed _here,_ under the Perin's very own roof. As the part-time manager, she had been nothing but pleased, humbled and honored to be serving a customer of such high status.

Just twenty-four hours ago, the popular newscaster had come blazing in with several armed guards by her side, all of them dressed in matching black suits. Minako had recognized Takki's trademark pixie cut and infamous fur-trimmed trench coat at once, and she had practically squealed when the beautiful woman personally addressed her.

"_Room 1311. I will not allow any investigating of my friend."_

_Shuichi Aizawa_ had been the name on the suite's reservation, Minako recalled. She eagerly double-checked the system files, and sure enough, she saw that _Aizawa _was yet again booked for the same room tonight. Her chest puffed out with pride. Kira's goddess obviously had a preference for the Perin! The part-time manager's heart gave another excited flutter when she took note of the time; the nine o'clock news had already finished.

The Japanese woman was so utterly delighted, she began to mentally count down the minutes until the arrival of Lady Takada.

* * *

**A/N: DUN DUN DUNNN.**

**Shout-out: **To **xYourDearlyBeloved**, who was first to review the last chapter. Check out her profile for amazing reads!

Thanks also to all you other awesome alerters/favoriters/readers, and the following people: _AnimeGirlZoe, BeyondBirthdayXL, C. Holywell-Black, Dani AnneMarie, Dr. Who's There, Echo1317, Escaping Dreams, eternalsnowfox, I Love Bleach, Kira the Wolf, MafiaGirl14, MasaJeevas, -patterns-at-dusk-, Rainbow Rant (thanks for the belated bday wish ^^), ShadowedSerenity, the one who loves pickles, TopGearGirl, Usagi323, and VeryWithdrawn!_

**Your reviews make my world go round ^_^**


	35. Mission Impossible

**A/N: Thank you for the amazing responses from last chapter! *round of hugs and desserts***

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note, this is just a fan fiction (:**

* * *

**Chapter 35: Mission Impossible**

* * *

_Click._

"Hurry up, I gotta _go_!"

"Ouch – _Matt_ – quit shoving!"

"Ladies first." Allie pushed the door open, and the three of us staggered into the dark suite. I blindly groped the walls for a light switch, but couldn't find one. Instead, my gloved fingers grazed against what felt like a panel painting.

"Where's the damned switch?" I growled under my breath.

"Mello, this is the Perin," Matt's disembodied voice floated toward me.

"So?"

"I've always wanted to do this..."

Matt clapped his hands, and the sharp noise rang throughout the evidently large room. Suite 1212 was instantly bathed in soft golden light, as if it had been lit by a thousand tiny candles at once.

Luminescent box lamps adorned the warm beige walls, casting a cheerful glow upon the thick, creamy carpet at our feet. A cluster of twinkling, recessed ceiling lights hovered over the scene, spotlighting the tetra coffee table and matching leather furniture arranged in the centre of the room. On the opposite side of the suite was a vast window shielded by sheer silk curtains.

Matt whistled approvingly. "Now, if you'll excuse me…" He darted toward the bathroom, which was tucked in the back corner of the room.

I locked the door behind me, while Allie made a beeline straight for the window. I quickly kicked off my steel-toed combat boots before silently joining her. The younger girl brushed the drapes aside, and we spent a good two minutes staring outside at the expanse of shimmering, gaily-lit skyscrapers sprawled beneath us. In the far distance was the unmistakable, fiery-amber tip of the Tokyo Tower. I threw a sideways glance at my companion, expecting her face to be lit up like a Christmas tree.

I wasn't wrong.

"Allie," I reminded her quietly. "L _died_ here."

If she was fazed, she hid it well. Allie tore her gaze away from the window and turned to look at me. "I know; that's why we're here. I'm not _scared_."

"You know, to feel fear is to be human," I told her, feeling a disconcerting flicker of familiarity as I took in her calm expression.

_Too calm. Too naïve._

"When was the last time _you_ were scared, Mello?"

Almost instinctively, I seized her hand and brought it up to press against the left side of my face. I was pleased to feel Allie's fingers trembling slightly as I forced her to examine my scar. "Right before I pushed the button," I murmured as we locked eyes. "When I wasn't sure I was going to make it…when I knew I'd be blown to hell either way." I released her hand.

To my astonishment, Allie's fingers continued to trace the outline of my injury – voluntarily, of their own accord. My cheeks flushed as she stroked the ridges of my ruined flesh. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"I don't need pity," I gritted out. Yet, I didn't move away; her touch was too warm, too comforting.

"You know, to feel pity is to be human," she deadpanned.

For a moment, I just stared at her. Then I gave a short bark of laughter. "Good one," I muttered, shaking my head. I leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose.

"Am I interrupting something here?"

We both spun around at the sound of Matt's voice. "No!" Allie and I said in unison.

"Liars," the lanky teen drawled from his spot at the coffee table, already hunching over a laptop. "Anyway, you guys should check out the bathroom. I could probably live in there."

"No one's stopping you," I informed him, strolling over to the table. "Let's get down to business now, shall we?"

"Alright, alright, gather 'round…"

Allie and I sat down in the ivory-colored armchairs, shifting our seats until we were in a triangular formation, and waited for Matt to begin.

"As you already know, Miss Takada met with someone here last night. A certain Mister Aizawa stayed in Suite 1311 yesterday, and according to the system, he's checked in again. Obviously, someone's waiting for Takada upstairs as we speak."

"Aizawa," I mused. "He's a member of the Taskforce. So it's safe to assume that it's actually Light Yagami who's been meeting with Takada."

"Exactly my sentiments," Matt agreed.

"So now what?" Allie asked, confused. "If we already know who it is, why are we even here?"

"That's the problem," I explained. "We can't be a hundred percent sure. We need…_solid proof_," I added, practically spitting out the words. _Near's_ _words_.

"This is where we come in," Matt said hurriedly. He tilted his laptop at an angle so that Allie and I could see what was on the screen.

It was a blueprint.

I studied it for a few seconds before exclaiming, "Are you kidding me? This only works in the movies."

"I'm dead serious. Why do you think I booked us this specific room?"

There was a lengthy pause.

"Matt," I finally said. "We're not crawling up an air vent. It's too dangerous."

"If you're worried about getting stuck…"

I narrowed my eyes at him, bristling. "Come again?"

"Look, this is the easiest way to do it. Takada will have guards stationed at her door. There's no other way to get in other than from the inside."

Allie tentatively raised her hand. I shot her an amused look. "This isn't a classroom."

She lowered it, blushing. "Right. Anyway, where exactly is this vent? I can't tell."

"Oh right, sorry about that." Matt tapped a few keys, and the kanji on the blueprint was instantly translated into their English counterparts.

Allie consulted the screen. "The bathroom?"

"Indeed. All we gotta do is pop in there with a camera and catch them in the act."

"How simple," I said sarcastically. "Can't we just scale the building?"

Matt shook his head. "There's bound to be guards waiting outside the hotel. I wouldn't put it past them to have night vision."

I wracked my brain for another idea, but couldn't think of anything else. "How many people do we need to do this?" I eventually grunted.

"Just one. I should stay behind to look after the surveillance feed, so…" he trailed off, and looked at me expectantly.

"Fine," I sighed. "I'll go."

"No," Allie suddenly piped up. "You can't go."

* * *

The older boys stared at me as if I had randomly burst out in a song and dance number.

"Look at what you're wearing," I explained evenly. "You'll make too much noise in the vent."

Matt let out a low chuckle, earning a glare of disapproval from Mello. "What? She has a point."

"I'll just change into something else," Mello said easily, gesturing toward Matt's luggage.

"No way!" Matt shook his head vigorously.

Mello frowned at him. "You borrow my stuff all the time."

"Yeah, well, I'd prefer to keep my pants clean, if you know what I mean." Matt's voice was sly.

I watched in frozen shock as Mello drew his gun, aiming it lazily at his best friend. "You swore you didn't see or hear _anything_."

_Oh, my God. _"What are you doing?" I gasped.

Matt smiled. "Relax, this is how we play." With that, he casually jumped up and went over to unpack his bags.

"This is how you _play_?" I repeated in disbelief. "Well, it's certainly not my idea of fun."

Mello set the semi-automatic down onto the glass table. "You're playing with the big boys now, Allie. I'd advise you to get used to it."

I nodded calmly, but inside, I was mentally smacking my forehead. _That's what I'm trying to do. _

"Oi, heads up!" Matt called from across the room.

A few seconds later, a pair of jeans sailed through the air in Mello's direction. Mello caught it with an outstretched hand, and began to unbuckle his belt with the other. As soon as the metallic disk sprung free, Mello yanked off the leather strap in one fluid motion.

_Snap._

Mello tossed the belt carelessly behind him before threading his fingers through the laces at the crotch of his pants. He paused, lifting his head to meet my gaze. A devilish grin spread across his face when he realized I was openly staring at him.

Suddenly, I felt what had to be all the blood in my body rush to my head.

"The b-bathroom's just around the c-corner," I stuttered. For some strange reason, my voice sounded slurred.

Mello smirked at me in response, and stood up. Without taking his glittering, blue-green eyes off of me, he continued to unlace himself, his fingers moving at an agonizingly slow pace. "_Don't tell me you're not enjoying the show_," he mouthed as his hand slid along his waistband.

I was speechless.

"Mello, stop teasing the poor girl," Matt scolded him as he returned to the coffee table. I forced myself to look over the table at the other boy, who was currently untangling three microphone headsets and a pair of green-tinted goggles.

"What are those for?" I managed to ask, trying to ignore the undressing blond beside me.

"These are night vision glasses," Matt said, tapping them fondly, "with a built-in, wireless webcam. My laptop will be receiving the feed, and we'll be seeing whatever Mello sees up there. This is the camera I was talking about."

I nodded. "And what are we going to be doing here?"

"We'll be giving Mello instructions – "

"No one gives _me_ – "

" – _directions_, in case he winds up in some other random bathroom."

Mello sneered at this. "I already have the blueprint memorized."

There was a distinct jangling noise, and Matt pretended to gag. Before I could stop myself, I whipped my head around just in time to see Mello's the decorative metal chain swinging back and forth in sync with his hip movements as he wiggled and wormed his way out of his tight pants, exposing his plain black boxers.

Heat filled my face once again as I took in the sight of Mello's taut, milky thighs and toned calves. His legs appeared perfectly smooth and hairless as a baby's bottom, and were pale as ivory.

_Oh my…_

"Goodness, someone clearly doesn't tan down there," Matt remarked. I stifled a mortified giggle.

Mello coughed loudly, quickly slipping into the ribbed jeans that his friend had lent him. "I wouldn't be talking," Mello retorted. "Can we get back on track now?"

"Sure, sure, whatever…"

Mello plopped himself back into the armchair, looking extremely uncomfortable in the stiff denim. "I doubt we'll be getting any reception in the vents," he said bluntly, pointing to the headsets. "Maybe we should test it out first."

"Are you doubting my…" Matt trailed off as he consulted his laptop. His expression darkened. "Shit. We don't have any time left."

"What?" A shiver crawled up my spine.

"The hotel computer system has been put into lockdown. It's offline."

"Takada's here," Mello stated.

Matt nodded in confirmation. "Let's go."

* * *

Within minutes, we were all huddled together in the bathroom. Matt had been right; it was pretty sweet. However, there was no time to admire the Jacuzzi or the gold-trimmed towels.

Matt and Allie were standing underneath the open air duct in the bathroom, looking up at the gaping rectangular hole in the wall. I had climbed atop the toilet to remove the grill cover and was currently inspecting the lightless shaft. My heart sank; it was smaller than I'd expected it to be. I stripped off my gloves and unzipped my vest, tossing them to the floor. I winced as I felt the cool air hit my sensitive skin… and winced again when I heard Allie's audible gasp.

I glanced back at her, and watched as her eyes travelled down my throat, across my collarbone, drifting low past my naked shoulder blades, for the very first time. I gently unhooked the rosary from around my neck, and dropped it into Allie's waiting, shaking hands.

"Be careful."

"I always am." I tightened the straps of the night vision goggles before nodding curtly at Matt. "You're sure I'm not going to suffocate up there, right?"

"Come on, Mello. The only way you'll die is if you get caught."

"Good enough."

I hoisted myself off the toilet tank and slid headfirst into the open vent. I used my bare hands to propel me forward as I squeezed my torso inside the duct.

_Oh…shit…_

I bit my lip to keep myself from screaming out in pain. The metal paneling inside the shaft was scraping at my upper body – my scar, more specifically – as I had dreaded it would.

I crawled up another inch. And then another. It had been a month since the explosion, and my injuries had essentially healed over. However, _this_…

This was something entirely different.

_Too…tight…_

My skin burned as though I was being cooked alive in the fiery pit of hell itself. I could already feel the sweat dripping down my naked chest. I shook my bangs out of my eyes as I tried to refocus. I concentrated on my breathing, which sounded loud and harsh in the confined space, as I carefully and repeatedly placed one hand in front of the other.

_One...two..._

I squeezed myself forward another foot, and a searing pain lanced up my back.

"_Damn,_" I moaned involuntarily. Then, realizing what I had done, I clamped my mouth shut and slowly, silently, counted to three.

* * *

Our heads jerked up at the distinct sound of pain that reverberated through our ear buds.

"He's hurt," I gasped. "Mello, are you okay?"

Matt swore. "Mello, can you hear us?"

There was a brief moment of silence before the other boy answered. _"Yeah."_

"What's wrong? You were doing great."

"_I…I..."_

"Mello, get out of there, now."

"_No, I can do this."_

"You're overexerting yourself. Fuck, I'm sorry. I should've known."

"_No, it's okay. I'm almost…halfway…there."_

Without hesitation, I ran back to the bathroom, with Matt close at my heels. The older boy carefully climbed onto the toilet, tilted his head and peered inside the vent.

"Do you see him?"

Matt nodded. "Mello, you're a liar. We can still see you. Get back here, now!"

"_Shut up."_

Matt rolled his eyes at me. But despite his outward, nonchalant attitude, I could tell that he was extremely anxious. "Mello, I swear on my DS, if you don't get out of there immediately, I'll shoot your ass!"

There was a hiss of static as Mello snorted. _"You've never fired a shot your entire life."_

"It can't be that different from the video games." Matt's face was set in fierce determination, and there was a smoldering look in his hard, green eyes. I was taken aback. In the short time that I had known him, I had never seen him look, or sound, this serious. _Mello must mean a lot to him._

There was a long silence, and then: _"Okay."_

When Mello finally emerged from the vent, we moved forward to heave him out of the wall. As I supported Mello's left arm, I immediately noticed the angry, red swellings that streaked down his side. It was as though his body had been freshly rubbed raw.

Mello avoided our probing gazes. "I'll need a shirt this time," he muttered almost shamefully.

"No," Matt snapped. "I'll go. You can stay and watch over the computer."

"You won't fit either," Mello said harshly. "We're practically the same size, and I could barely squeeze through."

My breath hitched. "I'll do it," I declared, and before Mello could protest, I snatched the night vision goggles from his face and shoved them onto my own.

"What? No!" The scarred, half-naked boy made a wild, frantic swipe at me, but Matt held him back.

"Good idea," Matt agreed. "Go ahead, Allie."

"Don't, it's too dangerous!"

I merely shook my head as I climbed onto the toilet. "It's more dangerous for _you, _Mello. I'll be fine," I replied over my shoulder.

"Allie…" Mello growled warningly.

"Trust me," I told him. "We'll have our proof in no time."

* * *

Matt and I watched as Allie disappeared into the vent, crawling through and up the shaft with plenty of room to spare. My gut twisted at the sight of her lithe, fast-moving form. I almost laughed out loud. I was… _jealous. _I was jealous that she was able to easily accomplish something that I… _failed_ to do. But, among the jealousy, I could feel something else swell inside of me.

Pride.

I swiftly redressed before following Matt back outside into the main room. My rosary was neatly draped across the armrest of my chair. I lifted it over my head, dropping it back into its rightful place.

Allie's hushed voice crackled through our headsets._ "You guys? Can you hear me?"_

"Roger that," I responded wryly.

"_I'm at the first fork. Left or right?"_

Matt switched the window over to the blueprint. "Left. The next one is also a left. It should take you directly to 1311's bathroom."

"_Thanks."_

"Be careful," I added.

"_Roger that," _she replied, echoing my earlier statement.

There was nothing but static and darkness for the next several minutes. I was so tense, I was ready to burst. When Allie finally spoke again, I found myself quickly saying a silent prayer of thanks.

"_I'm here. No signs of any movement yet."_

Matt and I huddled together at the laptop, watching as the goggle's webcam inched closer to the grill covering. We had a complete shot of the bathroom door, which was currently hanging wide open.

"_Oh wait. I hear something," _Allie breathed.

Matt adjusted the volume on the surveillance feed, cranking it up several notches. I held my breath as a faint, male voice resounded from beyond what had to be the doorway.

"_Thank you for coming here again tonight, Kiyomi. You look absolutely…radiant."_

* * *

**A/N: Yeah, that's right. We've got some Light/Takada going on here *cackles evilly* **

**Shout-out: **To **xYourDearlyBeloved**, who was first to review the last chapter. You make me wanna dance all day ^_^

Thanks also to all you other awesome alerters/favoriters/readers, and the following reviewers: _AnimeGirlZoe, BeyondBirthdayXL, C. Holywell-Black, Dani AnneMarie, Dr. Who's There, Echo1317, Escaping Dreams, eternalsnowfox, I Love Bleach, Kira the Wolf, MafiaGirl14, MasaJeevas, -patterns-at-dusk-, Rainbow Rant, ShadowedSerenity, the one who loves pickles, TopGearGirl, Usagi323, and VeryWithdrawn_!


	36. Third Wheel

**A/N: Yay, I finally finished my work. Exams are coming up though…oh and apparently, FF is having some site glitches again. Bleah. **

**Disclaimer: This is just a fan fic.**

**Note: This chapter contains slightly mature themes. Also, "Crunky" is a Japanese candy bar.**

* * *

**Chapter 36: Third Wheel**

* * *

"Thank you for coming here again tonight, Kiyomi. You look absolutely… radiant."

The honey-coated words rolled smoothly off Light's tongue, almost as if he had rehearsed them. Of course, he did nothing of that sort. Light Yagami had a certain way with words.

Kiyomi Takada shut the door behind her. A faint, pink tinge stained her porcelain features as Light helped her slip out of the luxurious pea coat. "Light," she greeted him warmly. Her voice was soft and calm, but her eyes told a different story. Her dark eyes were brimming with her freshly rekindled desire for him.

_Kira, _they said, praising him. _Light is Kira._

Light smiled at her in response, enveloping her into his arms. Takada's blouse-clad chest flushed against his as he stroked her back. "I was worried about you all day, especially after what happened last night," Light sighed for the benefit of the Task Force's wires. Last night…

Last night couldn't have gone any smoother.

He had finally gotten into contact with Teru Mikami through Takada's cell phone, and the timing couldn't have been more perfect. Things had been starting to slip; the gap between their ideals had begun to show much sooner than Light had expected.

Fortunately, Mikami was as clever as he had given him credit for. His sharp instincts had allowed Light to once more gain the upper hand in the race to eliminate his enemies – before they could get to him. _That will never happen, now that I finally have both Takada and Mikami at my beck and call._

At first, Light had been slightly worried about how to win over the proud anchorwoman. But the moment he revealed to her that _he _was Kira, Takada's cool demeanor cracked and dissolved right into nothing but unadulterated admiration.

Takada melted into his embrace. "Thank you...shall we go sit down?" she inquired evenly.

Light suppressed a smirk as he guided the woman – his new _goddess – _to one of the leather armchairs at the coffee table. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Coffee would be nice."

He made his way to the machine at the snack bar, and busied himself with preparing a new pot. _The others can only hear our conversation at this point. I'll need to make it seem like I'm really having a relationship with Takada, as I told them last night. _While he waited for the coffee to finish brewing, Light swept his gaze across the room until it landed on a stack of notepads and fancy-looking pens on the cherry wood dresser.

A few minutes later, Light strolled back to the table, tray in hand. "How was work today?" he asked her, casually loosening his tie as he sat down. It was still slightly crinkled from Misa's hug earlier that day, and Light made a fleeting mental note to never wear new clothes around the other girl again.

"It was fine. Did you watch tonight's report...?"

"Of course. I'd still like to know if Kira ever wants to cooperate with the NPA."

Takada nodded at him, acknowledging the lie. "I have yet to receive instructions from Kira regarding the offer," she responded, daintily adding some sugar to the dark, scalding beverage in front of her.

"We'll give him all the time he needs." Light handed her one of the paper pads and pens, taking a set for himself. She looked at him curiously. "You know, Kiyomi… lately, people have been calling you their goddess. _Kira's_ goddess. Now that Kira thinks I'm your boyfriend, I hope that won't pose a problem."

"I don't think it will." Takada pursed her glossed lips, trying not to snicker_._

They sipped their coffees in relaxed silence. Light took this opportunity to scribble down on the paper: _As you may already know, the cameras are gone. All that's left are the wires. We'll use these to communicate instead._ He pushed the note across the table. "Are we?"

Takada glanced at it briefly. "Are we what?"

"Together," Light said simply.

Takada handed him another piece of paper: _I understand. _"It depends. Am _I_ the other woman?"

"Not at all," Light asserted. "Misa is nothing to me. You, on the other hand..."

The corners of Takada's mouth curled up in satisfaction. "Yes, Yagami?" the raven-haired beauty replied almost teasingly, her eyes half-lidded.

He leaned forward, placing his palms flat on the glass table. "_You _are the only one."

The older woman gracefully arched her neck, ready to meet his lips, just as she did last night. Instead, Light lowered his head and placed a kiss in the hollow of her throat. She gasped in surprised pleasure. Light breathed deeply, savoring his victory. _Some things never change. _He trailed his lips higher, brushing them along Takada's jaw line, noting the way the woman was virtually immobile, motionless. _Like easy prey_. When his mouth finally reached hers, she parted her lips, and their tongues tangled in a moist, coffee-flavored kiss.

"Oh, Light…" Kiyomi hummed.

"This is just like old times, isn't it?" Light whispered when they broke apart. Takada nodded slowly, and quickly jotted down a message on her notepad.

_Is this okay? Your men are listening in on us._

Light winked at her. "I'm not shy," he answered.

"Neither am I." Then, as if to prove it, Takada began to unbutton her shirt.

* * *

I had no idea what I was supposed to do.

At this point, I was crouched up against the dusty vent covering, pressing the goggles as close to the grill as I possibly could without jarring it loose. I could barely hear a thing, just indiscernible murmurings from the other room. I knew I had to get a shot of them together somehow, but for that to happen, I needed to sneak out of the vent without being noticed. _But how?_

My heart was hammering away in my chest, so loudly that I was almost afraid the couple outside in the hotel room would hear its frantic beating. I carefully blew into my mouthpiece, not wanting to risk making too much noise. Luckily, they got the hint.

"_There's nothing you can do but wait,_" Mello's voice crackled through. _"Stay there, and just let them come to us. Sooner or later, they'll have to use the bathroom."_

"_Kohi's a diuretic, you see." _That was Matt.

_Kohi… coffee? _I sniffed the air. Sure enough, I caught the faint scent of roasted beans wafting through the room. Curling my body up against the metal wall, I suppressed a yawn. This was going to be a long and boring wait…

My head jerked up when I heard a sudden moan from outside the bathroom. I didn't even have to strain my ears to distinguish the unmistakable sounds of… I gnawed at my bottom lip, trying to ignore the cold horror that was flooding through me. If that really was Kiyomi Takada and Light Yagami out there, that meant…

Mello and Matt both coughed loudly into their microphones. I was glad that I wasn't the only one feeling uncomfortable about the unexpected turn of events.

But really, what exactly had we been expecting in the first place?

According to Matt, Near was only concerned with finding out who Takada was meeting. And even if that person did turn out to be Light Yagami, there was no evidence – so far – that this was nothing but a romantic tryst.

_Or is there? _Maybe Near was onto something. Whatever it was, I didn't see it yet. For now, all I cared about was helping out in any way possible. If that included crawling up a dark, musty shaft, blindly crushing spiders in the process, so be it.

An irrelevant realization flashed through me. _Light Yagami is cheating on his fiancée. _

A particularly high-pitched whine, followed by dull thudding and the sounds of creaking bedsprings, broke through my thoughts like lightning. I clapped a dirtied hand over my mouth to stop myself from gagging.

"_Bloody hell. This is awkward, isn't it?"_

I squirmed in my cramped spot. I closed my eyes, trying to drown out the sounds of the Japanese couple, but it was to no avail. The audible, wordless lovemaking continued on for what felt like eternity, and then: "_Ahhh…" _

The voice was breathless and undoubtedly female. It had to be Takada. A few seconds later, there was a low groan. I grimaced.

"_They're done." _

"_Get ready." _Mello sounded tense.

I snapped to attention, adjusting the high-definition goggles more securely onto my face.

The bathroom, which had been dimly lit by a single nightlight up until that point, was instantly thrown into sharp relief by the multi-layered crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. I instinctively shrank back deeper into the air vent, seeking refuge in the shadows. At the same time, I removed the goggles from my face and thrust them toward the grill covering.

"_We've got them!" _Mello crowed. _"That's Light Yagami, alright."_

My jaw dropped, and I felt my eyes widen to the size of dinner plates. Despite myself, I craned my neck forward to get a better view, making sure not to disturb the goggles balanced between my fingers.

A striking brunette had entered the bathroom, clad only in a loose silk robe. The raven-haired beauty that I recognized as Kiyomi Takada stood stark-naked beside Light Yagami, with her slim, white arm snaked around his waist. She blissfully stretched herself, gracefully and effortlessly, instantly reminding me of a purring, satisfied cat.

I was grateful for the silence in my headset. I didn't even want to imagine the others' reactions to seeing Takada's bared curves – but I could only assume that it was nothing similar to mine in seeing Light Yagami.

The Japanese man's exposed chest gleamed like chiseled gold, his long lashes fluttered slowly underneath his rich auburn bangs, and his lips were curled up in post-sex contentment. Yet…

There was something wrong with the picture. It only took me a few seconds to put my finger on it.

_His eyes_…their soft, liquid quality hardened as Takada strutted across the bathroom to the Jacuzzi, flicking on the golden taps and jets. Light Yagami watched as the water gushed out in steady streams, filling the tub with frothing water, while I watched as the muscles in his fine, boyish face clenched and unclenched. Light Yagami was a damn good actor.

For a fleeting moment, my chest felt like it was constricted – as if the mere sight of the man suspected to be Kira was enough to give me a heart attack. And not in a good way, either.

* * *

Matt wordlessly removed his headset, fiercely blushing beneath his pale freckles.

I quirked an eyebrow at him, and did the same.

"Whoa," he breathed, speaking freely now.

"Matt," I said bluntly. "You're acting like you've never seen a naked woman before."

"Well…that's because I _haven't_. Not in real life, anyway…"

"Huh?"

"Never mind that," Matt replied hastily. "So, what should we do now? Send the recording to Near?"

I shook my head. "We'll wait for _him _to contact us. If he wants information, the brat will have to ask us himself."

"Geez Mello. That'll just delay his…I mean our…_the _investigation."

"Not really. It'll take Near a while to get his new headquarters set up, anyway. I doubt he'll be staying with Halle and Gevanni," I explained.

"Ahh, that's too bad." Matt fumbled through his vest pockets, fishing out his Pac-Man Zippo lighter. He flipped it open, and brought the blue-orange flame to the unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth, sighing happily as he returned his gaze to the webcam feed.

I turned back to the laptop as well, putting my headset back on. Yagami had shed his robes and slipped into the bubbling Jacuzzi next to Takada. They were wearing matching self-glorified smirks, emanating a sense of invincibility. Sorely tempted and utterly bored, I fantasized about going up there in person and crashing their little tryst.

"Enjoy it while it lasts, Yagami," I sneered at the screen. "You're not safe from us anymore."

They stayed in the bath for at least twenty minutes before switching over to the shower box on the other side of the bathroom. As soon as the water was turned on full blast, I straightened in my seat.

"Allie, you can come back now," I ordered. "Hurry."

The camera retreated and swung around in the opposite direction, facing the vent. A metallic squeak emitted from Allie's movement. I cursed, thankful that she was safe under the cover of the shower's noise. "Be careful!"

Matt and I waited with bated breath as the camera was once again plunged into darkness. I could hear Allie's labored breathing in my ear as she advanced down the metal shaft, crawling as quickly and quietly as she could. When I finally heard the ringing _thump _of the toilet in the other room, I leapt out of my armchair, hurtling toward the bathroom.

I was greeted with the sight of one very dusty, very exhausted brunette. Allie staggered right into my outstretched arms, relief washing over the both of us.

"Mission accomplished," Allie gasped, smiling weakly.

I brushed a clump of cobwebs out of her hair before kissing her damp forehead. "You did great."

Allie blushed. "That was nothing. All I did was crawl up an air vent. Er…no offense, Mello…" she added, turning even redder.

I chuckled. "None taken."

After placing the grill cover back over the gaping vent in the wall, we headed back outside where Matt was grinning at us. He slapped his laptop shut and gave us a thumbs-up.

"That was excellent. Near should be satisfied with that."

"How?" Allie wanted to know. "This only proves that Light's having an affair with Kiyomi, doesn't it?"

"Not quite," I said thoughtfully. "If he's just started meeting with her, it would explain why Takada has suddenly been more outspoken with her reports lately. He probably has something to do with that."

"No wonder… I found that a little strange as well. So, what now?"

"Now, we kick back and relax."

And so we did.

We killed the next few hours watching horror movies – with subtitles and lights on, for Allie's benefit – and raiding the mini-fridge. To my delight, I had found several Crunky bars and a carton of chocolate milk. All of three of us, including Matt, were sprawled across the carpet on our bellies, enjoying the well-earned break. I ignored the sickening feeling that Kira was just a floor above us, unreachable and untouchable.

I could almost hear Near's voice. _Assassination isn't our style. _

This time, I agreed with him.

Scenes of pale, blood-stained, bug-eyed Japanese children peeking out from closets and attics flickered before my eyes. Soon, they were replaced by lively, running orphans and sunlit, grassy fields. In the middle of a particularly gory scene, I finally succumbed to the persistent bouts of nostalgia. I turned to Matt, who was donning his usual amber-tinted goggles again. Apparently, watching TV for hours on end was bad for his eyes.

"_House_, hmm?" I muttered, referring to the name that Matt had reserved the room under.

"Yeah," Matt grunted. "I thought you'd appreciate it."

"…what makes you think that?"

"Well, for one thing," he exhaled, snuffing out his cigarette and crushing it into the ashtray at his elbow, "you still haven't gotten rid of that picture Near gave back to you."

I snorted, irked that he had noticed it. "I've been too busy to," I retorted lamely.

Allie propped herself up, cocking her head curiously. "What picture?"

"Uh, a photo of me when I was thirteen…"

"Can I see it?" she pressed eagerly, movie forgotten.

"Fine, fine…" I rolled my eyes and unzipped my vest's inner pocket, carefully sliding out the old photograph and laying it flat on the floor. Allie scooted her body closer to mine, peering down at the thirteen-year-old version of me.

* * *

Mello's young, unmarked face peeked up at me from the snapshot. I was immediately struck by how different he looked. His healthy skin had nothing to do with it, nor did it have anything to do with the neat yellow bob that had noticeably grown out into shaggy, wild, brassy mess.

It was his eyes.

Same sea-blue color, same thick, long lashes to die for. They were wide and clear, full of earnestness and fiery ambition…and visibly untouched by blood, guilt and death.

Untouched by his friend's suicide, untouched by his idol's murder, and untouched by the killings and sins he had committed to get this far.

I glanced up, pretending to compare the two faces. "Hmm," I droned. "I can't decide which one is cuter…"

"That's easy, Allie," Matt drawled. "What do you like more, pretty boys or bad boys?"

Mello snatched the photo back, stuffing it unceremoniously into his pocket. "Hey, who are you calling a pretty boy?" he growled, throwing his empty milk carton at his friend's head.

Matt quickly launched a half-eaten Crunky at Mello in retaliation. Soon, they were engaged in a full-blown food fight. Snacks flew across the room like snowballs, and I seized this opportunity to escape to the bathroom to take a long-overdue shower. When I eventually emerged from the bathroom, I was appalled to see the previously spotless suite littered with empty juice bottles, milk cartons and chocolate wrappers, and two teenagers panting in the middle of it all.

The rest of the night, or more accurately, morning, was relatively peaceful. Matt had passed out from his jet-lag, and as we waited for the sun to rise, Mello told me more stories about Wammy's, tactfully avoiding any mention of Beyond Birthday.

_This is nice. _I listened, and watched Mello grow more animated as he talked. I learned that his absolute favorite subject had been English, and L had given him a guitar upon entering the orphanage, which Roger, the caretaker, had to confiscate whenever Mello misbehaved. I learned that L had gotten Matt a computer after finding out about his addiction to video games, and Near had received a ten-by-ten Rubik's cube.

"I guess it was L's way of welcoming us," Mello informed me. "After all, none of us ever got to meet him."

When Matt's laptop beeped a few hours later, at 7:30 A.M., we knew right away that the Perin Hotel's system lockdown had just been lifted.

Kiyomi Takada had left the building.

We ran to the window, but it was far too late. She and her guards were long gone. However…

"Mello, look!"

There was a taxi waiting at the curb in front of the hotel, and a certain, sharply-suited man was climbing into it. _Light Yagami, _I thought with dismay, recognizing his reddish-brown hair from the distance.

"Damn," Mello swore. "We could've followed him back to his headquarters."

"What for?" Matt's sleepy voice sounded behind us.

"Good morning," I said automatically. "And yeah, what for?

"To steal the other notebook," Mello stated matter-of-factly.

I stared at him, slack-jawed. "You're not serious, are you?"

"No," Matt snapped. "Hell, no. I'm not going to let you get into that fucking _mess_ again. Let's just take the next few days off, alright? We need some down time, at least until Near contacts us."

Mello surveyed his friend with appraising eyes. "Then what do you have in mind?"

"I dunno, anything. Shopping. Sight-seeing. Anything, Mels."

"Uh," I interrupted. "If we go out, we might be recognized."

"Not if we're well disguised," Matt argued. "Come on, don't tell me that you like being holed up in a hotel room. I mean, it _is _nice and all, but we need fresh air."

"Ha!" Mello barked, shooting Matt a suspicious, accusatory glare. "Since when do _you _ever care about getting out?"

Matt placed his gloved hands on his hips, gleefully smirking. "_Hello?_ We're in _Japan_, every geek and freak's dream come true!"

* * *

**A/N: Next up….a bit of fluff! But just a tiny bit ;)**

**Shout-out: **To **xYourDearlyBeloved**, who was first to review the last chapter *gives Swedish Berries*

**Another special shout-out: **To **Kira the Wolf**! Not only was she the **200th reviewer**, she also has great taste in movies!

Thanks also to all you other awesome alerters/favoriters/readers, and the following reviewers: _AnimeGirlZoe, AxelIIX, C. Holywell-Black, Dai Uzimaki, Dani AnneMarie, Dr. Who's There, Echo1317, Escaping Dreams, eternalsnowfox, I Love Bleach, MafiaGirl14, MasaJeevas, -patterns-at-dusk-, Rainbow Rant, ShadowedSerenity, the one who loves pickles, TopGearGirl, Usagi323, VeryWithdrawn, and XxEnvyWrathXx! _

**You guys are unbelievably awesome. Like chocolate.**


	37. The Far and the Near

**A/N:**** This will be my last update for the next few days. I have an exam in 16 hours, then one Wednesday, next Monday and next Tuesday. *sigh***

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own Death Note, not even in book form. I borrow from the library xD**

**Note: The title pays homage to Thomas Wolfe's famous short story. Also, any places mentioned are real places.**

* * *

**Chapter 37: The Far and the Near**

* * *

It was only due to Matt's constant hounding as well as Allie's obvious need for clean clothes that I finally agreed to spend a day on the town. Matt – who normally hated the outdoors – chose Yokohama, of all places.

"It's where you'll find the most foreigners," Matt told us. "We'll blend in without a problem."

"It's where you'll find the best arcades," I translated for Allie's benefit. I arched a knowing eyebrow at Matt, who failed to hide his smirk.

"Haha, you know me so well…"

Three thin disguises, one crowded train, and forty-five tense minutes later, we were maneuvering through the bustling streets of Minato Mirai, shivering as the mid-December air nipped at our ears. As usual, I was on the lookout for plainclothes officers, but all I saw were flocks of tourists and throngs of students on break. Matt had been right – at least a third of these people were non-Japanese.

After making certain we weren't being followed, the three of us dodged into the nearest café, thankful for the warmth. A short, bespectacled waiter immediately materialized and guided us to a table near the back. We placed our orders – three hot chocolates – and he vanished as quickly as he had appeared.

"Wow," Allie commented, glancing around at the mirrored floor, walls and ceiling. "This place is awesome."

I cast the nearest wall a look of disgust, and my reflection glared right back at me. My "disguise" consisted of scraping together my cornsilk locks into a short ponytail, while Matt had opted for gelled spikes. With my leather attire and his fuzzy ensemble, we resembled a pair of washed-up rockers. To top it off, we each had a fake five o'clock shadow, courtesy of Allie's extraordinary makeup skills. As for my scar, it was caked in concealer and foundation, which lightened the raw, pink flesh quite considerably.

Allie, on the other hand, had dusted her own face and neck entirely with bronzer, giving off the impression she had been left out in the sun too long. One of Matt's spare shirts hung loosely off her frame, and her hazel eyes were ringed with liquid liner. Overall, she looked like a human-sized raccoon. And yet, somehow, she managed to pull it off.

"I beg to differ," Matt sniffed, jerking his head toward the large non-smoking sign hanging in the window. He slouched down into his seat and began to chew on the edges of his striped sleeves.

I snorted. "Can't you go one hour without lighting up?"

Matt pouted. "Never have, never will."

The server returned with our drinks, setting down in front of us three ceramic mugs brimming with steaming, hot cocoa. I watched as Allie stirred her beverage with a tiny spoon, poking at the miniature marshmallows that floated on the dark surface. She was eyeing Matt with a curious expression.

"Matt, when did you start?"

I was taken aback by her candor. I could tell that Matt, too, was startled. "Eh?" he asked, clearly stalling for time.

"When did you start smoking?"

Matt fidgeted uncomfortably. "Why do you want to know?"

"Um, I dunno. I was just wondering…" Allie faltered.

"It's a valid question," I added, realizing that I didn't know the answer either. I stared skeptically at my best friend, and drummed my gloved fingers against the table. "Well?"

The brunette – whose copper roots were already starting to grow back out – took a swig from his cup, not even wincing at the scalding liquid. "I don't remember," he said blandly.

"The hell you don't," I retorted. "Come on, Matty."

Matt cracked a smile. "_Matty_? Are you trying to sweet talk me?"

Underneath the table, I reared my leg back and delivered a swift kick to his shin. "Sweet talk _this_."

"_Ouch_! Okay, fine." Matt took a deep breath before confessing, "It... was after you left the orphanage."

He might as well have physically punched me in the stomach and said: _It was when you left me._

Whatever heart I had left clenched tightly in my chest, and the last five years of my life went flying out the window, hollow and insignificant. _Takada, Light, Misa, Halle … _Flames danced and flashed behind my eyelids, one punished and the other unscathed. _Soichiro, Sidoh, Sayu, Takimura, Ross…_

A year and a half with the Mafia, and three and a half on the road. It had been a lonely one, paved with bodies and sacrifices that I could only find solace from in beads colored like my faults: blood-red. Matt may have forgiven me, and Allie may have accepted it, but I still wasn't ready to face the fallout. And now…

Now I had Matt's nicotine addiction hanging over my head as well, not to mention the possibility of lung cancer.

My dry lips parted.

"What's done is done," Matt said firmly before I could spit out a half-assed apology. "Besides, look how great we both turned out."

There was a long stretch of silence as I pondered this. Indeed, I had done great things. Great and terrible things. It disturbed me to admit that in my greatest victory – _the notebook_ – I had ignored the glaring fact I had completely veered off course from all that L stood for. My triumph had not been without failure.

_Great? On the contrary. _I scowled into my cup.

"I didn't mean to bring up such a sore subject," Allie said anxiously, her voice low and remorseful. "I'm sorry."

_Guilt'__s a funny thing_, I thought wryly. I shook my head, and my ponytail swished with the movement. "Don't be. I was just a little surprised, that's all. Matt, why didn't you tell me?"

Matt tsked. "There's no point dwelling on such rubbish. Let's just… enjoy ourselves today, shall we?" Behind his goggles, his eyes pleaded with mine.

_Don't be such a killjoy._

To everyone's astonishment, I lifted up my mug to propose a toast. "You're right, Matt. Cheers," I declared, forcing enthusiasm into my voice, "to how far we've come."

Allie's face broke out into a huge grin of relief as she clinked our cups together. "To this."

"To how far we're gonna go," Matt added, raising his drink to meet ours.

As I swilled the melting marshmallows around in my mouth, I marveled at how deceivingly _normal_ this seemed. We looked like three regular people – friends – just hanging out. No spying, no killing, no running and hiding. Once again, I caught our distorted reflections in the mirrored wall. This time, the sight warmed me up in a way the hot chocolate couldn't.

Little by little, I let my troubles slide away.

* * *

We spent the next few hours at Queen's Square Yokohama, much to my delight. Mello was the one who had suggested the Queen's East zone, insisting that it was the best place to go shopping. Once we got there, Matt immediately took off, mumbling about needing a new video game to beat.

"Meet us back here by four," Mello yelled after the fleeing gamer.

Without turning around, Matt flashed us a victory sign.

"So," Mello mused, "how would you like to spend your half, Allie?" He pulled out the massive wad of cash that Matt had provided us earlier. Although I didn't know the details, I had a nagging suspicion that bank accounts across Japan were now short a couple thousand yen. There was exactly a cool two million, which, when converted, was more money than I had ever spent in the last six years.

"What?" I gaped as Mello split the bills evenly. "Shouldn't we… save some of it?"

"Plenty more where this came from. Let's go nuts," Mello drawled, handing me the cash.

"Holy crap," I spluttered, hastily stuffing the stolen money into my wallet. "I'm buying clothes, not the whole mall."

"Then think of it as an early Christmas present," Mello replied, slinging an arm around my shoulders.

I blanched. "Mello," I said stiffly. "These are embezzled funds. I'm not going to – "

"Who said anything about embezzled funds? The money's legitimate." Mello pointed to the nearest shop, which had fashionably dressed mannequins in the store display. "Girls like dresses, right?"

I stared at him incredulously. "So where did Matt get it from?"

"It's ou – his – inheritance."

I noticed his slip. "What did you mean by _our_?"

"You ask too many questions," Mello complained loudly, but I could tell by the slight smile on his face that he was just teasing. He cast our surroundings a furtive glance, his sharp cerulean eyes darting back and forth like a hawk's. "When L and Wammy died, they left behind a substantial fortune," he explained, lowering his voice. "We each got a share. When I left the orphanage, mine was automatically forfeited to the next in line: Matt."

"Oh," I said, stunned. "I see."

"Do you remember what happened in New York with Demegawa last month? It was on the news."

I racked my brains, and then it suddenly hit me. I recalled watching the video clips of rioting mobs as green bills rained from the sky. It had been utter chaos. "The SPK… they escaped from him using L's inheritance," I breathed.

"That's right," Mello confirmed. "Ten million dollars down the drain."

I winced. "Ouch…"

I grudgingly allowed him to guide me into the ridiculously expensive-looking boutique he'd pointed out earlier. We ended up staying there for one long, fruitless hour. I could hardly bring myself to touch the luxurious silks and shimmering fabrics, but I humored my eager companion and tried on at least ten shirts and five dresses before breaking down.

"This just isn't me," I sighed after coming out of the dressing room for the umpteenth time.

Mello examined me with a critical eye. "Something's missing," he agreed.

"What?" I asked cautiously, crossing my arms across my small chest as discreetly as I could.

"Leather," Mello replied with a wicked grin. "And fur."

I only shook my head in resignation.

We hustled out of the store, leaving behind two irritated and disappointed salespeople, and wandered around for a while, idly chatting. At one point, we passed by an indoor arcade that looked exceptionally packed.

"What's going on?" I inquired curiously, craning my neck around the crowd to catch a glimpse of the attraction.

"There appears to be some sort of commotion inside," Mello said airily. "It's probably Matt."

"Oh?"

We squeezed through the mass of giggling teenagers and envious boyfriends to see Wammy's third best and brightest battling it out on a Dance Dance Revolution game machine.

Sirens wailed and psychedelic, neon colors flashed as Matt's limbs stomped, twisted and turned in time with the upbeat tempo. Dancing right next to him was an extremely lanky Asian with bleached platinum spikes and multiple piercings. His face was bright red as he attempted to keep up with Matt's perfectly-timed moves.

"I'm invincible!" Matt shouted over the pounding music as he spotted me and Mello in the growing crowd. My jaw dropped as I noted the unbroken combo count on his side of the screen. Funnily enough, his character looked exactly like him, save for the woolly vest.

"Oh God," Mello groaned, smacking his forehead. "What's he thinking, drawing all this attention to himself?"

Matt let out a loud whoop when the song finished, signaling the end of the game. Girls all around us tittered in ecstasy as he bounded off the platform, smiling from ear to ear.

"What did you think of that, mates?"

"You're an idiot," Mello retorted as we pushed our way outside.

"He means it in an affectionate way," I added. "Don't you?"

"Good, because I won you this at the shooting gallery…" Matt dangled a plastic keychain in front of Mello's face. It was a miniature chocolate bar.

Mello snatched it from between his fingers. "What the hell am I supposed to do with this?"

"I dunno. I don't recommend eating it, though…"

Mello rolled his eyes and stuck the keychain into his pocket. "So, where are you off to now? We still have to get some clothes."

"Oh. Boring. In that case, I'm gonna head back inside." With that, Matt retreated back into the arcade. I burst out laughing at Mello's disgruntled expression.

Within minutes, we found a Graniph not too far from the gaming center. Mello and I descended on the neat stacks of designer shirts like a pair of frenzied, fashion-starved teenagers. Compared to the previous shop, 2,500 yen per shirt was practically a steal. I also threw in a few leggings and underwear into my pile of purchases.

The total rang up to 35,000 yen. I slowly and hesitantly handed over the cash, painfully aware that I was splurging with _L_'s money.

"It's your money too," Mello informed me after we left Graniph.

I gnawed at the inside of my cheek, mentally vowing not to spend any more of it on unnecessary items for myself.

* * *

As we waited for four o'clock to roll around, Allie and I traipsed all over the mall stocking up on different chocolate bars. I was pleased to find most of my favorite Cadbury, Nestle and Hershey brands. When Allie wandered off to look at some jewelry, I bought some Lindt bars as well.

While I was waiting for the younger girl to return, my phone rang. The unexpected sound of my ringtone sent a jolt of alarm running down my spine. I flipped it open. "Matt?"

"_Mello, we gotta go__, NOW. Someone tried to bypass the security code on my laptop. It's secure, so it had to have been done on site!"_

That was the worst thing he could've said.

"Meet us at the Minatomirai Station," I ordered, referring to the terminal directly below us. I snapped my cell shut, just when Allie reappeared, flushed with excitement. She stopped dead in her tracks at my stricken expression.

"Mello? What's wrong?"

"We gotta go," I said curtly, tugging her by the hand. "Someone tried to hack into Matt's computer."

She didn't need to be told twice.

The train ride back was pure agony. Matt was muttering to himself the entire time, nervously wringing his gloved hands, while Allie and I exchanged dark looks, too edgy to even speak. When we finally arrived at the Perin Hotel fifty minutes later, we didn't bother using the elevator. We took the stairs three steps at a time and made it to our room, Suite 1212, in thirty seconds flat.

"Wait," I hissed. I fingered the _Do Not Disturb _sign that was hanging from the doorknob. Before we left the room that morning, I had made sure to flip it so that the Japanese side was showing. Now it was displaying its English counterpart. "Yeah, someone's been here."

"Shit," Matt swore. "They'd better not have gone through my other stuff."

If it weren't for the seriousness of the situation, I would've laughed at the mental image of a maid pawing through Matt's grenades. "There's only one way to find out," I muttered, nodding at Allie.

Allie stepped forward, swiping the gold cardkey through the reader. As soon as it flashed green, I kicked the door open and barreled straight into the room, with my gun grasped tightly in my right hand as a precaution. I barely had time to register the single silhouette that was hovering by the window when I was instantly thrown off my feet, crashing unceremoniously onto the carpet. The gun flew out of my hand and clattered away into the darkness.

"Ugh!"

I wheezed as a large weight landed on top of me, effectively crushing my windpipe. Both of my arms were yanked over my head and pinned tightly together. I attempted to squeeze my way out from underneath my attacker, but I was completely immobilized. Panic rose in my chest when I realized I was truly and utterly incapacitated.

That had only happened once before – when I was cornered by Soichiro Yagami.

I could hear Matt and Allie rush in and slam the door behind them. "Mello, are you alright?" Allie gasped. There was a quick clapping noise, and the suite was flooded with burning, yellow light.

A soft, disembodied voice came floating toward us from the other side of the room. "Commander Rester, what did I tell you?"

The blood froze in my veins at the sound of the familiar, monotonous drone. I panted for breath when the bulky, blond man released me obediently, lumbering gracefully to his feet. I was too shocked to get back up.

"Stay calm."

Allie murmured quietly into my ear as she helped Matt heave me off the floor, gripping me by my armpits. _Damn it_. My legs were practically shaking. I straightened my jacket and shot Rester my iciest glare.

"Don't ever touch me again," I seethed, trying to salvage my dignity. I whipped my head toward the window, where my pajama-clad rival was standing motionless. "And you!" I barked. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Good evening to you too, Mello."

I clenched my fists. "Oh, please. My _evening_ has just been ruined, _Near_."

* * *

**A/N: MWAHAHAHA. Oh yes, our much-adored Near is back in the picture. **

**Shout-out: **To **xYourDearlyBeloved**, who was first to review the last chapter. Congrats on finishing your sequel, girl!

Thanks also to all you other awesome alerters/favoriters/readers, and the following reviewers: _AnimeGirlZoe, Axel IIX, C. Holywell-Black, Dai Uzimaki, Dani AnneMarie, Dr. Who's There, Echo1317, Escaping Dreams, eternalsnowfox, I Love Bleach, Kira the Wolf, MafiaGirl14, MasaJeevas, -patterns-at-dusk-, Rainbow Rant, ShadowedSerenity, the one who loves pickles, TopGearGirl, Usagi323, VeryWithdrawn, and XxEnvyWrathXx! _

**You guys are UBER-AWESOME.**


	38. Cracks

**A/N: NGAH. Worst timing of life. My laptop broke down the other day AND I have two exams left. So I apologize for any delays in the near future.**

**Disclaimer: This is just a fan fiction (:**

**Note: This chapter contains excerpts from DN Volume 11.**

* * *

**Chapter 38: Cracks**

* * *

For a moment, no one said anything.

I saw Mello's sharp eyes dart back and forth between Matt's open laptop on the coffee table and the small teenager standing by the window.

_So it was Near._

Near watched us, stroking a lock of his silver curls with one hand and grasping a robot action figure in the other. Mello was breathing loudly through his nose, speechless with rage. I could feel his shoulder muscles ripple underneath my palms as Matt and I held him back from diving for his gun, which was laying at the feet of the large man who had subdued him a minute ago.

Then Near moved. Catlike, he padded across the room toward us, his unreadable gaze never leaving Mello's face. "Is that any way to greet a friend?"

Mello's face contorted in disbelief, emphasizing the scar lines hidden beneath his makeup. "Friend?" he snapped, glowering at the younger boy. "Give me a break."

"I already have." Near inched closer to us, his pale lips tightening in disapproval. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you would be in right now if I hadn't stepped in?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the little stunt you pulled back in Los Angeles," Near answered, his dark eyes flashing with impatience.

My heart sank. I had completely forgotten about that until now. "What happened?" I blurted out. "Are my parents alright?"

Near titled his head and stared at me curiously, as if noticing me for the first time. "Yes... yes, they are."

"What did you guys do?" Matt piped up, confused.

"Mello deemed it necessary to open fire in a school classroom," Near said simply, his gaze flickering over to Matt. "However, I pulled a few strings and the FBI stopped the investigation before the LAPD could find any incriminating evidence."

The tension in the room increased tenfold as the grim reality of the situation sunk in.

_The LAPD... the FBI..._

"What about witnesses?" I whispered.

"We made arrangements," Near replied with a ghost of a smile. "Let's just say they're all too scared of Kira to talk to anyone. Ironic, isn't it?"

I released a breath I didn't realize I had been holding. "Near... thank you."

The SPK leader, my former best friend, simply bowed his head.

Mello blinked, and made a strangled noise deep in his throat. "Look, if you're expecting _me_ to..." he broke off, his mouth working furiously. An awkward, sheepish expression briefly crossed his features. "How did you get in here?" Mello finally demanded.

"Commander Rester is skilled with breaking and entering." Near gestured at the silent, impressively built man hovering beside him. "He isn't my second-in-command for nothing."

The blond man coughed, clearly uncomfortable with the two-edged compliment. His formidable presence oddly reminded me of another man – a certain Japanese detective. Commander Rester seemed to fill the entire room with his sheer size and unspoken power, much like how Kanzo Mogi did, and his steely blue eyes burned with a familiar, keen intensity that I could only describe as... paternal vigilance.

"My my, our little Near's a rebel," Matt remarked.

Near smirked slightly. "I suppose that's correct. However, anyone trying to capture Kira is considered a rebel these days. Breaking and entering is insignificant."

Mello nodded, relaxing his stance. Surprised, Matt and I dropped our restraining holds on him. "So, Near. What do you want? Don't tell me you're thinking of making _this _place – " _my place_, Mello's voice hinted, " – your new headquarters."

"No. I only want to know whether or not you have discovered who Takada has been meeting."

Mello's eyes immediately narrowed into slits.

"Huh!"

Our heads whipped around at the sudden sound that had erupted from Commander Rester. His thin, lightly-colored eyebrows had shot up in undisguised astonishment. The large man rubbed his wide-set jaw. "Sorry, Near," he apologized. His voice was low and gravelly, just as I had imagined it would be.

"It's fine," Near said coolly. "I know you're trying your best, Rester."

"Well, he doesn't have to try any longer," Mello sneered at the smaller boy, his nostrils flaring in triumph.

Near froze, his fingers tangled and perfectly motionless in his thick hair. A few seconds later, his bloodless lips curled up in satisfaction. "You know who it is."

"We do. And it's all thanks to Allie."

Both Near and Commander Rester swivelled to look at me. The older man was scrutinizing me with the utmost suspicion, and I could feel my face flush from the sudden attention. "Uh," I spluttered. "If it hadn't been for Matt..."

Near's smile widened. Rows of tiny white teeth winked up at me. "Who is it?"

"Who else?" Mello interrupted. "It's Yagami. Light Yagami."

"Light Yagami," Near repeated, appearing unfazed. He resumed his hair-twirling, but this time, his fingers moved more erratically than before. "How do you know?"

"Er...we spied on them last night," I explained, causing Commander Rester to furrow his brow at me. "Yes?" I asked nervously, directing my question at the bulky man.

"Takada is better protected than the President of the United States," he pointed out. "How did you get past her guards?"

"We didn't have to," Matt jumped in. "We crawled up the air vent. Our bathrooms are connected."

Near arched a brow at me. "A vent? Interesting..." he droned.

I nodded. "We got it all on video."

Commander Rester looked impressed. To everyone's surprise, he stepped toward me, extending a large hand. I hesitated before accepting the handshake. His hand was firm, rough and calloused. "Anthony Rester," the man stated, his light blue eyes roaming over my face.

"Alexandra Robinson. It's nice to meet you, " I replied politely, hoping that the layer of bronzer on my skin was enough to hide my blush. Without a doubt, the SPK second-in-command was an imposing figure. Yet, for some reason, I found myself strangely at ease with this man.

He had the same frost-blond hair as Halle Lidner, and the same icy eyes as Stephen Gevanni – yet, somehow, Anthony Rester had a warm aura that seeped into the very air that we were all breathing. Like the rest of the SPK, Near included, he looked as if he had been carved from stone. But at the same time, his forehead was wrinkled with age and unmatched experience, making him appear more human than the others.

"Likewise. Near has told me all about you," Rester responded. "I look forward to working with you."

I gulped, dazed by the commander's heavy pronouncement.

"And you, too." He shifted his attention onto Matt.

"The name's Matt," Matt said airily. He stuck a gloved hand out and eagerly pumped Rester's massive arm up and down. "I've heard many great things about you..."

Mello snorted, tapping his booted feet against the plush carpet. "Can we move on now?"

"Mello, heartfelt introductions are quite necessary," Matt declared. "If we are to work together, as you all apparently agreed to do, then it's important to get to know one another."

"Bullshit." Mello glanced at me guiltily before hastily saying, "I mean, whatever. Let's get back to business."

Near frowned at him, nonplussed. "Yes, well then. Thank you Matt, for passing along my message. I had faith in your persuasive abilities, and in Mello's initiative."

Mello twitched at this, but Matt merely shrugged. "We did what we had to do. So, do you want to see the proof now?"

"Of course. Rester and I have been waiting here for a while now."

"And you just couldn't wait any longer, could you?" Matt sighed, referring to Near's failure to break into his laptop.

"No," Near said serenely, eyeing our shopping bags. "I had, and still have, other things to do."

"Alright, come with me," Matt drawled. He unlatched himself from Mello's side and strutted over to the computer. Near followed him, his expression indecipherable.

My heart fluttered as I studied the blank yet confident mask that was his face. _Unemotional_, as I recalled Mello's words on the plane.

_No_, I thought decidedly. _Unemotional _wasn't the word for him, for the boy who was acting indifferent to the danger we were all in. I was sure that his composure was nothing more than a front to shield, to squash, to _numb_ the fear and urgency that had to be stirring within him.

Commander Rester joined the two teenagers at the coffee table, leaving me and Mello standing by the closed doorway.

"Allie," Mello muttered, watching his best friend and rival pore over the surveillance feed together, "doesn't it bother you that Near got us to do the dirty work, and here he is, reaping the benefits?"

"No," I said automatically.

Mello shot me a skeptical look. "Why not? We were the ones risking our lives last night. Near didn't even thank you properly."

"Because _he_ was the one who covered both of our asses back there in L.A.," I reminded him gently. "And that's what friends do. We're a team now, Mello."

Mello's face softened, looking once more at the scene unfolding before us.

* * *

"I am going to confront L with this."

Allie's mouth dropped. I could only stare at Near in shock, as did Matt. Commander Rester, on the other hand, didn't seem fazed at all by Near's bold announcement.

It had taken Near a mere three minutes to go through the footage. Once Rester had caught a glimpse of the Japanese man, he confirmed Light's identity, comparing the video's image to an old photograph that was provided to him by a graduate student of To-Oh University.

_I am going to confront L with this._

Just hearing L's name used in conjunction with Kira's made me feel sick. L's title, _my... no, I have to stop thinking like this._

Matt was the first to find his voice. "I see," he breathed. "And then what?"

"And then," Near mused, "I will bait him."

"How?"

"By telling him how many of us are in Japan right now," Near said casually. "There's no way he can avoid us anymore. I am sure that Kira will make a move to try and kill the four of us."

At this, Matt and Allie both let out strangled gasps.

"So we're going to expose ourselves," I murmured, my mind racing. I could follow the logic in Near's plan. By purposely telling the fake L – _Kira_ – who was after him, he would be luring him out into the open and forcing his hand in the process. To say I was stunned was an understatement. Just a moment ago, I had been seething about how Near did nothing but hide behind the scenes – _like a puppetmaster – _and now, it was as if he had done a complete one-eighty.

I was pleased.

I liked it, this idea of finally going head to head with Kira. I was tired of waiting and watching as the world fell deeper under his toxic spell. _But_, I berated myself, _as long as I have Matt and Allie to worry about... _I clenched my fists, torn between my duty to L and my... personal feelings. A part of me wanted my two companions to back out before they were in too deep, before it was too late... no, it was already too late.

"It's about time Kira knows what he's up against," I admitted out loud. "This should be interesting. The four of us..."

"No, not you," Near clarified. "Just me, and the other three members of the SPK. Your name has already been discovered, so you should just lay low for the time being."

"What?" I snapped. "We didn't come this far for nothing..." I inhaled sharply as the realization hit me like a bucket of cold water.

_That bastard._

"You...!" I jumped to my feet.

Commander Rester immediately leapt to his feet as well, blocking Near from my view.

"Mello, sit down. Rester, you too."

"You're just trying to play the hero here," I spat out accusingly. "L's little _hero_. You're going to try to take all the credit for this. Isn't that right?"

Near's voice was heavy with disdain. "Don't be a fool. You're making it sound as though _you _wish to be found out by Kira. Do you really want that, Mello? Do you want to die?"

"If that's what it takes," I shot back.

Beside me, Matt groaned. Behind his goggles, his eyes had widened with vague terror.

"Mello, don't say things like that," Allie said uncomfortably.

"Why not?" I ranted, refusing to feel chastised. "We're all aware of how this is going to end, anyway. Either we die, or Kira does. And I'll do whatever it takes to have his head!"

Allie flinched. "Who's playing the lone hero now?" she demanded, jutting out her chin at me.

_What the hell?_

I could hardly believe my own ears. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Allie asserted fiercely. "We're all putting our necks on the line here, but _no_, you have to stick your neck out a little bit farther than the rest of us."

"Allie, please stay out of this," I said silkily.

"It's too late for that," she argued. "You're too stubborn for your own good, Mello."

"I agree. Mello shouldn't let jealousy cloud his judgment."

That was the last straw. Fury washed over me in pounding, relentless waves, and I gritted my teeth to choke back a full-fledged growl.

"Get out of here," I snarled at Near, "before I do something I'll regret."

In the blink of an eye, Commander Rester had whisked his superior out of the suite - but not before the younger boy could get the last word in edgewise. "I'll keep in touch," Near called back over his pajama-clad shoulder. They both disappeared, and the door swung safely shut behind them.

Expletives flew out of my mouth as I hammered my fists against the table in frustration. There was an ominous crack when my hands connected with the smooth glass surface.

"Mello..."

"Don't talk to me."

"Mels..."

"Leave me alone, damn it!"

Allie and Matt, visibly hurt, averted their stricken gazes. I retreated into the bedroom, where I flopped down on one of the futons and closed my eyes, willing myself into the dark, dreamless subconsciousness that claimed me.

* * *

**A/N: Pivotal chapter, though I must admit that it wasn't very action-packed. Hope you liked it, anyway ^_^**

**Shoutout: **To **mima1216**, who was first to review the last chapter! Thanks for the great review, and yes, if you want to see Mello in a ponytail, you can google "Mello with a ponytail" xD. It's so cute!

Thanks also to all you other awesome alerters/favoriters/readers, and all those who have reviewed so far: _AnimeGirlZoe, Axel IIX, C. Holywell-Black, Dai Uzimaki, Dani AnneMarie, Dr. Who's There, Echo1317, EpicAnime77, Escaping Dreams, eternalsnowfox, I Love Bleach, Kira the Wolf, MafiaGirl14, MasaJeevas, -patterns-at-dusk-, Rainbow Rant, RikuLayke, ShadowedSerenity, the one who loves pickles, TopGearGirl, Usagi323, VeryWithdrawn, and XxEnvyWrathXx!_

**I appreciate all of your wonderful feedback! (:**


	39. An Unspoken Agreement

**A/N: Now, I have yet an important announcement to make - after my exams, I'm going on a family vacation, so I won't be able to update for a while. However, I'll be working on the next installment during my trip (: In the meantime, enjoy the longest chapter to date! ^_^**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note.**

**Note: This chapter contains altered excerpts from V.11, mainly Near's conversation with Light.**

* * *

**Chapter 39: An Unspoken Agreement**

* * *

"What about that one?" I pointed out the window at the abandoned parking lot we had just passed.

Matt slammed on the brakes and glanced over his shoulder. "Nah, it's too sketchy."

"Erm... that's what you said about the last five places."

"Alright, fine," Matt groaned before quickly shifting the manual gear into reverse, backing the stolen Camaro into the empty lot. The car jolted as we drove over a pothole, gradually rumbling to a stop just beneath the lone, flickering street lamp. We hopped out of the rustic vehicle and began to unload the trunk at once. Soon, the ground was littered with tools, towels, sandpaper and cans of primer and spray paint.

"Oi! Heads up." Matt tossed me a pair of gloves and goggles, which I caught and immediately tugged on.

"How long is this going to take?" I asked seriously, surveying our cold, dark surroundings with a sense of foreboding. In the dim beams of the Camaro's headlights, shadowy figures seemed to dance beyond the broken fence that enclosed the area. Although the chances that we were being spied on were quite low – especially with the Japanese crime rate being virtually zero – I still couldn't shake off my feelings of paranoia.

"Well, first we'll have to sand it down, and then prime it before we can apply the coats. I want at least three layers, so it should take about two hours if we hurry," Matt calculated.

I nodded and rolled up my sleeves, ready to get to work – ready to take my mind off a certain angry boy.

_Damn it._

I swallowed the lump of guilt that was rising in my throat.

It had been three days since Near's unexpected visit, and Mello was still giving us the cold shoulder. He slept, ate and brooded alone, only coming out of the bedroom to use the bathroom. And when he did, he avoided making eye contact with us; ignored us, as if we weren't even there.

It stung.

Whenever we ordered room service, Matt would leave a bowl of food by the bedroom door, hazarding a few knocks. The meal would sit there for hours, untouched and eventually wasted. The only sounds that came from the locked room were hushed murmurings and the crinkling of candy bar wrappers.

I watched TV while Matt kept a continuous eye on his computer for another system lockdown. There were none. Kiyomi Takada and Light Yagami had obviously switched hotels.

This left us with nothing else to do.

Unable to speak freely and afraid of being overheard, Matt and I barely exchanged a word. Without Mello, and _because_ of Mello, the awkwardness in our room grew with every waking minute. The tense atmosphere was becoming almost unbearable, stifling and suffocating.

Today had been no exception. Matt and I had eaten our congee in silence, listening to the light rain outside patter against our hotel window. It was only when Matt made a passing comment about still needing to "fix" his ride that we finally decided to step out for a breath of fresh air. After a quiet debate over whether or not to inform Mello, we ended up leaving him a hastily scribbled note before dashing out of – no, _escaping _–the suite. Evening had fallen by the time we had finished scrounging around local auto parts stores for necessities.

And here we were now.

Leaning against the hood of the car, I waited for Matt to sort out the supplies. I breathed in the crisp night air, grateful for our temporary freedom.

"Have you done this before?" the older boy asked me as he handed me a large chunk of sandpaper. The scruffy teenager took one long, last drag of his cigarette before flicking the butt onto the damp pavement, snuffing it out with his booted feet.

"Not with a car," I admitted, folding the sanding sheet into a manageable square. "Surfboards."

Matt smirked knowingly, and I felt my face flush.

We worked diligently, carefully scraping away the tiny pieces of build up and dirt the afternoon rain had failed to remove. Once Matt was satisfied with the car's newly smoothed surface, we sprayed on the primer. Soon, the Camaro's original coat of chipped, lemon-yellow paint was hidden below a fine layer of milky-white substance, which dried as soon as it hit the air.

Matt passed me a can of paint. "Time to get messy," he said enthusiastically, licking his lips.

I cracked a brief smile. "This _is_ the best part."

We simultaneously shook our cans, and pressed down on our respective nozzles. Soft, prolonged hisses filled the air as streams of fine red mist spurted out of the aerosol containers and onto the primed surface. I held my breath as the paint's pungent fumes started to tickle my nostrils. Beside me, Matt narrowed his eyes in concentration as he moved from door to door.

"A little bird told me you don't have your license," he suddenly piped up. "Why's that?"

I hid my surprise by pretending to examine a missed spot. "Uh, I don't need it."

"You will, one day."

"Not if I can help it," I mumbled, watching the car redden before my very eyes.

"No, seriously. After we're done, I'm gonna teach you how to drive."

There was a loud _clunk _as the can of paint slipped out of my hand and crashed down onto the pavement, rolling under the Camaro and out of sight. I swore and dropped to my knees, peering into the gap.

"Allie!" Matt's voice was filled with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I replied hurriedly. "I just lost my grip, that's all."

Matt squatted down and reached below the car with his left arm, groping blindly. Within seconds, he managed to fish the can out from beneath the vehicle.

"Thanks," I muttered, blushing horribly.

The older boy frowned at me, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "You don't have to lie to me."

"What do you mean?"

"You're afraid," Matt declared, setting the spray paint to the side. He continued to look at me, crouching on his toes.

I bit my lip. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah, you do." Matt pushed his goggles up onto his forehead. The action exposed the flaming copper roots at his temples and the inquisitive green eyes previously hidden behind the tinted protective eyewear.

_That expression..._

A numbing sensation seeped into my pounding brain as I stared back at him. All the laughter had gone out of Matt's eyes; it was the same expression he had worn when he had coaxed Mello out of the air vent the other night.

"I'm so sorry, mate," Matt finally said. "I didn't realize that..." He trailed off awkwardly.

"That my parents died in a car accident?" I finished for him. "That I've been scared of driving ever since?"

"Something like that."

I looked down at my hands and sighed. "I don't even know whether it's true or not," I confessed, shivering as a sudden breeze ruffled my bangs. "I'm assuming Quillsh Wammy was the one who told my adoptive parents to tell me that."

"Or L," Matt suggested. "Wammy never liked to lie."

I stared at him in surprise. "Are you saying that L did?"

Matt shrugged. "Lying was part of his job." He jammed his gloved hands into the pockets of his woolly vest. "In any case, you shouldn't run away from your fears, Allie."

"I'm not. I'm just... putting it off," I said lamely. "I'll deal with it later."

"What if there isn't a _later_?"

My scalp prickled at his words. "There will be," I assured him. "There's got to be," I added hollowly.

"Well, you know what they say. There's no time like the present." Matt got back onto his feet to resume with the painting, and I swiftly followed suit.

As we worked – pausing between coats – I couldn't help but notice how lovingly and expertly Matt handled the car, almost as if it were his own child. His hand ghosted over the Camaro's freshly sleek roof, gliding but not touching, and in the soft lighting I could see the evident pleasure that tinged his pale cheeks a healthy pink.

"Just like new," Matt cooed when we finally completed the third layer.

We stepped back to admire our handiwork. The formerly yellow Camaro was now a vibrant, cherry red, just like the one he had driven back in Los Angeles. Its body gleamed underneath the glow of the parking lot fixture, and there was a disc of silver shimmering across the hood louvers – a reflection of the cloudy full moon above us. We had also replaced the old, rusty license plates with shiny new ones that read _02-01 _in a bold green font_._

"Are you ready to take this baby out for a spin?" Matt called cheerfully as he dumped an armful of empty canisters into the car trunk.

I shook my head vigorously. "No, Matt. I can't."

"You _can_," Matt corrected me. "You just don't want to. Come on, Allie. I'm a good teacher."

I nervously rubbed the back of my neck, feeling my resolve weakening. "I dunno…"

"Trust me. It'll be safe, I promise."

Maybe I had a death wish. Maybe I had an impulsive streak that I didn't even know I possessed. Or maybe I was just stalling for time, dreading returning to the hotel where we'd do nothing but sit around and wait for a certain storm to blow over.

But one thing was for sure – I hadn't come all this way for nothing.

* * *

The moment I woke up, I knew something was amiss.

_Too quiet._

I launched myself off the futon and unlocked the door, pushing my head out. One sweeping glance told me that Matt and Allie were gone. For one wild moment, I felt like what I had always imagined Matt to feel like when I ran away from the orphanage – cold, disoriented…

For one wild moment, I thought that they had left for good – left _me_ for good.

Perhaps – just perhaps – my pride had gotten the best of me.

It was only when I calmed down that I noticed the tray of food at my feet. There was a note stuck to the bowl of graying congee. I plucked it off and read it out loud. "_Working on the car."_

Jealousy ignited in the pit of my stomach. I didn't know which was worse – the thought of the two of them…_having fun_…without me, or the thought of them having fun with _each other_.

_I wouldn't blame them, _I thought dully. Ever since the confrontation with Near, I had been giving my companions the silent treatment. I refused to acknowledge every gesture of goodwill that they made, which usually came in the form of stale scraps, and kept myself locked in the bedroom with only my cell phone to keep me company.

In other words, Halle.

Halle had just finished her training for Takada's bodyguard program, and she had been given two days off to recuperate from the rigorous testing. She was also currently sharing a room with Gevanni, yet that hadn't stopped her from calling every few hours – and when she did, I could hear the other man grumble bitterly in the background. During our last conversation, Halle informed me that Rester and Near had just finished setting up their new headquarters. When I asked her for the location, she admitted that she had no idea where it was.

As if on cue, my phone vibrated in my pocket.

I palmed it, flipping it open. Halle's name and number scrolled across the screen. "What?" I said a bit tiredly.

Halle spoke briskly._ "I have a message from Near."_

I immediately snapped to attention. "What does he want?" I intoned, keeping the interest in my voice to a bare minimum.

"_Go check your accomplice's computer."_

"Right now?"

"_Yes. He's going to contact L…"_

That was all it took. Disconnecting the call, I rushed out of the bedroom, my military boots thundering loudly against the carpet as I made my way across the empty suite toward the chrome laptop perched on the windowsill. Matt had left a few programs running, which I quickly exited. It wasn't long before the monitor flashed, instantly replacing the psychedelic Super Mario wallpaper with a white screen emblazoned with Near's insignia – a single, Wedding Text _N_.

This told me three things.

One, Matt had already lowered his firewall to accommodate the SPK.

Two, Near was clearly aware that I wasn't on speaking terms with neither Matt nor Allie. He had specifically asked for _me_, through Halle.

And three, Near was trying to make peace with me.

I hesitated, swaying between my pride and my desire. My hand hovered over the plugged-in headset as the black _N _burned into my retinas.

_No, there's no time to think. _I seized the device and slid it onto my head.

"Near."

To his credit, he didn't waste any time with his usual, condescending welcome. _"Are you ready to witness the beginning of the end?"_

Despite myself, I smiled. "Witness? No, I want to do much more than that."

"_So be it."_

Before I could ask him to elaborate, Matt's desktop changed once again. The screen split itself into three sections: _L…M…N…_

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Near," I managed to say, "what are you doing?"

"_I'm giving you the chance to speak to him as Mello, to reveal to him that you and the SPK are, in fact, cooperating. This is what you wanted, correct?"_

"Yes…"

"_And you'll do so, knowing that you'll also be placing Matt and Allie in more danger than they're already in?"_

"Of course," I answered determinedly. "You're doing the same with Halle and Gevanni, aren't you? I…no, _we, _just want an even playing field."

Near was quiet for a moment. _"If we put pressure on Kira from both sides, there's no doubt he'll back away from us. But he'll target you first, as you would be easier to kill."_

"I know that. What's your point?"

"_I don't want Mello to die," _he replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

All of the air whooshed out of my lungs as his statement slammed into me with full force. _Did_ Near…_just say that? _The younger genius had apparently taken my brief silence for agreement, as the _M _vanished from the computer screen, leaving only the _L _and _N _on display.

"_Feel free to jump in if you wish. I won't stop you. However, you'll be speaking under my name."_ Near's voice had taken on a synthetic, tinny quality.

"Fine," I uttered, and sure enough, mine was scrambled as well.

"_Commander Rester, please connect me to L."_

I gripped my headset tightly, my pulse quickening. There was a burst of static, and then…

"_This is Near, I would like to talk to L."_

"_Near…this is L speaking."_

"_L, it's been a while… thank you for keeping the connection open."_

My lips curled up in disdain. There it was – Near's unnecessary, lofty greeting.

"_Near, what do you want?" _

"_I am in Japan right now in order to capture Kira. The best way to investigate Kira is to start with Kiyomi Takada. Therefore, I have decided to come to Japan to investigate." _Near stopped abruptly, and I realized what he was doing. He was deliberately giving _me _a chance to speak.

_Alright then… _

But L, Kira, _Light Yagami_, beat me to it.

"_I'm in Japan already, doing just that. If you'd like to cooperate, I'm willing to do so as well. But since you're suspicious of me, I guess that's not possible…"_

I stared at the screen in disbelief.

"_Did you just say "I"?" _Near asked cautiously.

"_Yes. I have personally gotten in contact with Takada and am making headway in the investigation." _

His words were like a huge slap in the face. _No way…! _L was outright admitting to Near that he was Light Yagami. _He's saying this at the task force headquarters to win the others' confidence... _

_That cunning bastard! _I gritted my teeth, realizing that his confession rendered our own secret investigation of Takada and Yagami meaningless. We had infiltrated the Perin Hotel for nothing – absolutely nothing. Light had unknowingly undermined us, and our successful efforts had been, ultimately, a worthless waste of time.

But Light didn't stop there. _"And we've gone as far as having our investigator, Mogi, be able to enter NHN," _he barreled on.

I could see the ingenuity in this plan. By saying that, even if Near found out that Light was getting in contact with Misa Amane or Kiyomi Takada, he could just claim that it was a part of the investigation.

"_L…" _Near trailed off.

I didn't miss a beat. "We'll find a way to get into NHN as well," I droned, slipping into my proffered role. "But there's one thing…you said that you have personally contacted Takada and are investigating her."

"_Yes…?" _The fake L's voice was filled with suspicion.

_Go_, I mentally urged my younger rival. _Make your move._

"_Then please tell Takada, however you can, that the members of the SPK who escaped from the Kira worshippers in New York have entered Japan to capture Kira," _Near answered smoothly, building upon my words. _"Judging from the current world situation and her position, that is the type of news that she is going to have to report."_

There was only silence on the other end of the line. I smirked; I could practically hear the gears in Kira's head churning…his self-righteous eyes slitting…

"_You can even have her say that there are only four members of the group, including Near, the leader."_

I automatically clenched my jaw together. _Oh, if Yagami only knew the truth…_

"_The three other members are the people Mr. Aizawa and Mr. Mogi met at SPK. This is not a lie, so it will be a true report. If Mr. Aizawa or Mr. Mogi see them near NHN, please feel free to tell L. We don't want to get in the way of our investigation. But please don't show their faces as members of the SPK on television or other media outlets. This report is for luring Kira. Including me, there are only four of us. There's no way that Kira is going to run away. I am sure that Kira will make a move to try to kill us." _

Near took a deep breath. L's silence was so palpable, I couldn't resist a smug grin. "And that is where _we_ intend to counterstrike and defeat Kira," I stated, emphasizing the pronoun, fully aware the irony wouldn't be lost on Near. A smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth, and I was certain that on the other side of the computer, the small boy was wearing a similar expression.

After all, we were two sides of the same coin.

Our open invitation – no, _challenge – _hung thickly in the air, mocking and taunting and solid as ice, and we waited for our common enemy to react.

"_Near…there are four members altogether in Japan…is that it for the message?"_

There was a momentary pause, and I could've sworn I heard a…_snipping _sound. Scissors? There was no mistake. Near was sending me a subtle message. _Mello, it's your turn. _

"No," I responded, my hand drifting to my rosary. _To hell with laying low._ I stroked the beads before sealing my fate, before declaring, "I have received information that Mello has also entered Japan with his two associates. Please convey this to Takada as well."

There was a sharp, rapid intake of breath.

"_Mello is a major threat to Kira, as well as our investigations. He is now here, in Japan," _Near continued for me. His mechanized voice was firm, purposeful. _"I myself had gathered people who could work under me, but now that the situation has changed, numbers are not important."_

"_Alright. Thank you for the warning. So, will that be all?"_

"_Yes. I am in Japan," _Near pronounced with a dramatic flourish.

"…_I, too, am in Japan."_

"_Then, in the near future, we may come face to face."_

"_That's true."_

"_That will be something to look forward to."_

"_Yes."_

"_We'll bring Kira to an end once and for all."_

"_I agree."_

I leaned against the window, unable to decide whether to be amused or repulsed. It seemed as though my theatrical tendencies had finally rubbed off on the normally stoic boy.

"_The only way to restore the world now is to get rid of Kira and the existing notebooks. If we succeed in ridding the world of Kira and the notebooks, we win. If we die, Kira wins. This battle is no longer – no, even from the start, this battle was not about an arrest or something measured by the laws of this world…it has always been a one-on-one battle to prove who is on top."_

Near terminated the link after a minute of cold silence, and the _L _disappeared from the computer screen.

"_So, Mello, you now know I've decided to meet L, or rather Kira, in the near future, and settle this case once and for all."_

"In person," I mused. "You're sure about this?"

"_Yes. I've made my move. When the time comes, will you make yours?"_

The battle lines had already been blurred; I had no choice. I gazed at the ashtray nestled atop the windowpane, and my eyes slowly travelled up to the tree-shaped air freshener dangling overhead.

"You already know my answer, Near."

He was right. This was, indeed, the beginning of the end.

* * *

**A/N: Dundundunnn! Cheesy drama is cheesy. But delicious. **

**Shout out: **to **Kira the Wolf**, who was first to review the last chapter! Thanks for staying up so late, it was really cool of you.

Thanks also to all you awesome readers, and all the others who have reviewed so far: _AnimeGirlZoe, Axel IIX, broken neon star, C. Holywell-Black, Dai Uzimaki, Dani AnneMarie, Dr. Who's There, Echo1317, EpicAnime77, Escaping Dreams, eternalsnowfox, I Love Bleach, MafiaGirl14, MasaJeevas, mima1216, moonfleur, -patterns-at-dusk-, Rainbow Rant (Never and Forever X), RikuLayke, ShadowedSerenity, the one who loves pickles, TopGearGirl, Usagi323, VeryWithdrawn__, __xYourDearlyBeloved__ and __XxEnvyWrathXx__!_

**See you guys sometime next week!**


	40. Heart Upon a Sleeve

**A/N: Hi everyone, I'm back from my trip - and of course, that means a new chapter! Thank you for all of your sweet and incredible reviews from last week ^_^**

**Disclaimer: This is just a fan fiction; I only own the OC version of A.**

**Note: This chapter contains excerpts from Volume 11. **

* * *

**Chapter 40: Heart Upon a Sleeve**

* * *

Before I could lose my nerve, I slipped into the cracked leather seat and buckled myself in. Matt was already lounging in the passenger seat, his right arm dangling out the window. The goggled teenager fixed me with a shrewd look.

"This is just a formality, of course, but… you're sure about this, right?" he asked carefully.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. I had a feeling that if I opened my mouth, I'd croak. Or worse, spew chunks all over the Camaro's dashboard.

"Alright, start the car."

I obediently turned the key in the ignition. The engine purred to life, and the car suddenly seemed ten times larger than before. I blinked, clearing my mind, and placed my hands on the wheel. The plastic gripping felt cool and rough underneath my palms. I glanced at Matt for further instruction.

"Put your right foot at the pedals," he ordered. "The left one's the brake, and the other's the accelerator. Shift the gear to _drive_, and then gently step on the gas."

My pulse immediately skyrocketed at these words. Nevertheless, I complied, and the car surged forward, trickling to a stop a few feet ahead. Matt smiled patiently, gesturing for me to keep going. Narrowing my eyes in concentration, I cautiously pumped the accelerator until we had crawled our way to the entrance of the empty lot. When I pressed down on the brake, my heart beat slowed to its normal rate, and I was able to relax my shoulders by an inch.

"You're doing great, Allie. See, it's not so bad, is it?" Matt said encouragingly.

"Not at all," I admitted. "But then again, I haven't really done anything yet."

"Yeah, these are just the basics. You still have to learn about blind spots, which is what the mirrors are for, and signaling, which you have to do before turning or changing lanes..." Matt continued to rattle off a list of priorities, briefly describing each one, and I absorbed it all like a human sponge. When he was finished, he looked at me expectantly. "Got it? It's pretty much common sense."

I frowned slightly. "I guess so. There's just one thing, though."

"Yeah?"

"I've never seen you do any of that yourself," I pointed out. "Checking for blind spots, braking before a turn, and so on."

The older boy grinned mischievously. "Well, I'm an exception. A genius like me can get away with stuff like that."

"That's so stupid," I blurted, my voice sounding edgier than I had intended. _It's because of people like you… _

Matt shrugged, lifting his arms as if to say, _who cares?_ "Tch, so shoot me. So…" he said hastily, changing the subject before I could argue any further, "…it's time for a test drive. Are you up for that, Allie?"

I stared at him for a few seconds before warily replying, "You mean around the parking lot?"

"The road," the self-proclaimed daredevil stated cheerfully.

"I don't think I'm ready yet."

"On the contrary. You're a natural."

I gnawed at the inside of my cheek, hiding a pleased smile. "Am I really? Well, in that case…"

I plunged ahead and confidently floored the gas pedal. A high-pitched screech filled the air as the Camaro cleared the lot and shot straight out into the empty street.

"Shit!" Matt bellowed. "Mind that fence!"

In the glaring glow of the headlights, I could very clearly make out the looming roadside railing that we were in danger of either flipping over or crashing headlong into. Matt screamed again, clapping his gloved hands over his goggles, and a fleeting image of mangled, freshly-painted metal and our trapped, squirming bodies flashed before my eyes.

"Oh, God!"

Adrenaline coursing through my veins, I instinctively slammed on the brake. The vehicle shuddered violently before halting in its tracks. I grasped the steering wheel tightly and spun it forcefully, and the car jerked ninety degrees before lurching forward at a safe and normal speed.

"Ha," I breathed, dizzy with sheer relief. I began to laugh, giddy from the rush of energy spiking my senses. "Sorry about that," I gasped out.

"I take back what I said about you being a natural," Matt yelped, wagging a finger in my face. "You're more of an idiot than I am!"

"I didn't do it on purpose! And besides, you're the one who said you were a good teacher," I protested, keeping my focus on the road ahead.

"Ugh," Matt groaned. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him rubbing his temples. "Okay, let's just find some place to eat before we head back to the hotel. Near-death experiences always make me hungry."

"Always…?" I repeated.

Matt sighed. "Ah, never mind. Make a left turn up ahead."

I drove slowly and vigilantly, paying extra attention to the speedometer despite my companion's lighthearted complaints. As I followed Matt's directions, the smaller, older buildings on the outskirts of town soon gave way to apartments and strip malls, and then large shopping centers and gleaming high-rise structures.

"So, where are we going?"

"Sushi," Matt said eagerly.

I wrinkled my nose, and pointed to the row of fast-food restaurants down the busy street. "No offense, but I'd rather have McDonalds."

"Well, I'm in the mood for seafood," he countered. Without warning, he reached out with his left hand and seized the steering wheel. I automatically released it, shocked.

"Matt!" I exclaimed.

"Too bad," he responded cheekily, feeding the wheel through his nimble fingers. I leaned back in my seat to give him more space to maneuver.

Five minutes later, we found ourselves in front of a fashionable-looking eatery that had bite-sized, neon fish swimming in the glass windows. "I read about this place online – nothing but great reviews."

"Okay, I can live with that," I grumbled good-naturedly. We quickly pulled into the parking lot, and Matt swerved the Camaro into a free space near the entrance.

"Don't worry about disguises," Matt told me before I could ask. "I'm pretty sure no one's going to be looking for us here."

Nonetheless, I self-consciously fluffed my shortened hair before exiting the car. It had been exactly two weeks since Misa Amane cut and styled my formerly long locks, and the ends were already starting to grow limp.

We strolled into the restaurant, and Matt swept his gaze across the brightly-lit room as discreetly as he could. I trailed behind him, looking around nervously. There were only a few other customers, two servers and a hostess. Behind the sushi counter were a chef and his apprentice, as well as a cash register, several ornamental sake kegs, and a large screen TV.

"Konbanwa," came a soft voice. "Good evening."

The sharply-dressed hostess smiled sweetly at us, but for a moment there, I had seen her thin brows contract at the sight of Matt's wild attire. The lanky teenager gave no sign that he had noticed her expression, and responded politely in fluent Japanese. He held up two fingers to emphasize his words.

_Table for two, _I guessed.

The woman guided us to a booth in the back corner, and my heart leapt a little. Matt winked at me, shook his head firmly at the waitress, and then pointed at the table smack in the middle of the restaurant instead. I instantly realized the implication of his gesture, and was tremendously grateful for his subtle yet obvious tactfulness.

Matt's face was a picture of innocence as we seated ourselves out in the open. He thanked the hostess before she left to return to the front of the restaurant. She was immediately replaced by a waiter, who handed us two menus after greeting us.

"Hmm, just in time for the nine o'clock special, huh?" Matt remarked, flipping through the glossy pages.

"Not to mention the nine o'clock news," I said darkly, nodding my head toward the TV behind the sushi counter. The channel showing was NHN, and Kiyomi Takada's elegant, elfin face was plastered onto the screen. I grimaced. It only seemed like yesterday that we had spied on her in the bathroom with Light Yagami.

"I'm not going to let that spoil my dinner," Matt chortled, removing his tinted goggles to peer more closely at the list of dishes.

"Order some tempura for me. It's the closest thing to fries." I turned my attention to the news report – however, without the complimentary voiceover that I had relied on back in Los Angeles, I couldn't understand a word Takada was saying. I sighed, frustrated.

Just at that moment, Matt perked up. I could've sworn I saw his ears twitch beneath his long strands of reddening hair when he glanced up at the TV screen. The goggled boy's already pale face blanched even further as he listened to the captivating anchorwoman – _Kira's spokesperson – _speak.

"Nippon no keisatsu ga happyo…"

As I watched, Matt's lips moved in time with Takada's voice, rapidly translating for me out of the corner of his mouth.

"_The Japanese police announced…at three PM today that four members of the SPK who escaped New York have entered Japan, along with an alleged Mafia leader and his two unknown accomplices. The latter are also wanted for murder of the Japanese police director and deputy director. The police are initiating a full search for these people and are calling for public support…"_

"Oh, man…" I whispered, my chest tightening with fear.

"Huh," my fellow accomplice snorted, straightening in his chair. He appeared unsurprised – relaxed, even. "Don't worry your pretty little head about it, kid. This has got to be Near and Mello's doing."

"What?" I said, astonished. "Why would they…?"

"I'm assuming they're trying to bait Kira," Matt mused. "The Japanese Task Force would never allow Yagami to tip Takada off without the SPK's consent."

"So Mello..." I mumbled. "He's taken matters into his own hands."

"He and Near must've come to a mutual understanding."

"Behind our backs," I interjected.

"And I'm okay with that," Matt responded, waving the waiter over. "Allie, there's something I've been meaning to tell you. But please, don't tell Mello."

I eyed him curiously. "What is it?"

The server sauntered up to our table and Matt fired off a few phrases in Japanese. The raven-haired man nodded and slipped away after collecting our menus.

"I'm not brave like Mello," Matt began abruptly. "But I've been waiting for something like this to happen. In fact, I made sure of it."

"What are you talking about?"

"Being publicly outed," he clarified. "Being exposed to more danger than I would rationally bargain for. But nothing else mattered more than finding Mello, and being by his side."

I stayed silent, and waited for him to continue.

"I was there when the NPA sent two of their detectives – Touta Matsuda and Shuichi Aizawa – to investigate the orphanage two months ago, specifically, Near and Mello," Matt explained. "At that time, the only people who still remembered them were Roger and I. Everyone else had already broken off from Wammy's." His voice was low, sorrowful. "The older ones saw no point in staying if L had already died. Of course, they were all sworn to secrecy. You've heard of Linda W, right?"

"The painter?" I replied, stunned. "Mello told me about her, but I didn't realize they were the same person." _The last initial must be a tribute to the orphanage – to Quillsh Wammy._

"Yeah, she was a former student," he confirmed, an unreadable emotion clouding his green eyes. "She had left behind two portraits of Mello and Near as sort of a parting gift to Roger. Everyone knew he didn't like children, but Linda believed that the old codger actually had a soft spot for the pair. Anyway, when Matsuda and Aizawa showed up at Wammy's, Roger had no choice but to hand over the pictures as evidence and tell them all he knew about L's successors. And that was when I made my move."

Matt paused somewhat dramatically – whether it was intentional or not, I had no clue – when the waiter materialized with our orders. The man set down a steaming plate of deep-fried shrimp and vegetables in front of me, and a large tray of assorted hand rolls in front of the older boy. Matt smacked his lips, digging right in as soon as the server disappeared.

"What move?" I pressed, ignoring my food.

Matt grinned slyly, suddenly looking extremely proud of himself. "When you and Mello went to New York, someone recognized us at the airport. How do you think the second L managed to identify both me and Mello by mere descriptions?"

"The portraits…?" I said, confused. Matt nodded once, his mouth full of rice and seaweed. "But I thought Linda only drew Near and Mello."

Matt swallowed, downing the hand roll with a few gulps of water. "Yes, that's why I convinced Roger to provide them with a sketch of me as well. I drew it myself, at the last minute."

I stared at him. "What? Why? Why would you knowingly implicate yourself? That's insane."

"I'd been trying to track Mello down for years, and the Japanese police were the only lead I had," Matt argued. "I knew there was no turning back. Don't you see? By revealing my existence to them, I sealed my own fate. I set it up so that I couldn't chicken out. I did what I had to do." His voice rose slightly. "And after that, I secretly followed the detectives back to Los Angeles."

"And that's how you found Mello," I finished for him.

"That's right."

"Why don't you want him to know all of this?" I inquired suspiciously, finally picking up a piece of breaded broccoli.

"Because I don't want him to know the lengths I went and would always go to, just for him," Matt stated simply, his gaze burning with defiance. "Mello may wear his heart on his sleeve, but I don't."

"I see," I said quietly.

We ate in silence, much like how we did back at the hotel suite. When we finished our meals, Matt signaled for the check.

"Let's hit the bakery after this," he piped up. "We can bring back some chocolate tiramisu for Mello. It's a very special day tomorrow." Matt cast me a significant look.

"Oh!"

I felt the beginnings of a hopeful smile when it finally dawned on me.

* * *

"…_at the moment, both L-Kira and X-Kira are able to send messages to Takada, so something is rotten there. And even though Takada may only be Kira's puppet, we can't deny that Takada is highly important to us in discovering X-Kira."_

"Obviously," I declared impatiently, taking an aggravated bite out of my chocolate bar. I was bent over Matt's laptop, waiting for Near to finish debriefing the rest of the SPK in our three-way chat – Near and Rester, Halle and Gevanni…and me.

"_I probably didn't have to explain to you," _Near agreed, _"but this is the current situation. As for defeating Kira, I see two ways. The first is…_"

"L-Kira and X-Kira," I supplied, grinning nastily. "We kill those two, and confiscate the notebooks. And if the Kira killings stop, it means we are correct."

"_Right. That will prove L, Light Yagami, was Kira." _The deep, gravelly voice told me that was Rester.

"_We are almost positive that L is Kira, so I am confident that this should solve the case..."_

My pulse quickened at Near's pronouncement. "Now we're talking!"

"…_but we will never use this method, no matter what."_

"_Why not?" _Rester asked before I could interrupt.

"_First of all, even if the killings stop, it does not really prove that Light Yagami is Kira. Since nobody is using the notebook at the Task Force headquarters, there is always a chance that the killings stopped because of X-Kira's death. Also, the killings might continue if there are Y-Kiras and Z-Kiras. And most important of all…we kill those two and the Kira killing stops, then to say, 'See, we were right'…such ex post facto justification will not be tolerated. That is not the way we do things."_

"_We?" _That was also Rester. Halle and Gevanni were both eerily silent.

"_That's right. We – me and L. L will not be happy if we do that. It would be an insult to L, who entrusted those who came after him with this case. Mello, do you understand where I'm coming from?"_

I forced myself to answer. "Yeah," I grunted. "You have a point. Therefore, even if we _are _going to kill L-Kira and X-Kira, first we must…" I trailed off, the chocolate suddenly tasting like sawdust in my mouth.

"…_rub their faces in the evidence, and make them taste the misery of their defeat. It's out of the question to kill them before that. So we are going to get solid proof."_

"_And how will we do that?" _Rester inquired.

"_Have him use the notebook, and then arrest him on the spot."_

The other three members of the SPK gasped. I gripped my headset tightly. "Then the person whose name gets written down will die…do you have any plans for that?"

"_No, not at the moment, but we no longer have any other ways to get proof. But we'll think of something. When we meet Kira, the first person he will write down is me, so…well now, what am I to do…?" _There was an underlying sense of urgency in Near's tone that I was certain only I could detect.

"But as I said just now, killing Kira and confiscating the notebook with hopes that the killings will stop – Kira will definitely assume that may be one of our plans," I pointed out. "We may be able to use that to our advantage: that Kira will try to kill us before we kill him."

"_Well…for the time being, our job is to find out who is executing the criminals as Kira. And in order to do that, we must investigate NHN and Kiyomi Takada, even though Kira knows we will be doing it."_

"Right," I said decidedly. "Whoever X-Kira is, I'll hunt him down. NHN is definitely the place to start."

"_But perhaps…" _Near paused.

I frowned at the computer. "What's this? Hesitation?"

Near exhaled quite audibly. _"No. I'm just wondering if we're missing the obvious here. What if X-Kira is hiding in plain sight? What if it's someone Light Yagami has easy access to?"_

"Do you mean Takada herself?" I asked incredulously. "That's what Allie thought."

"_No, I'm talking about Light Yagami's family, Mello. Sachiko and Sayu Yagami. Maybe we should investigate them as well."_

I froze.

And just at that moment, three things happened at once.

My ears picked up the distant sound of a bell tower chiming midnight somewhere in the heart of Tokyo, the suite door flew open, and my two friends strode into the room carrying pastel-colored boxes.

"Happy birthday, Mello!" Matt and Allie chorused, looking at me hopefully and timidly.

* * *

**A/N: So the mystery at the end of Chapter 18 regarding the 'third portrait' has finally been revealed! Oh, Matt. **

**Shout out: **to **-patterns-at-dusk-**, who was first to review the last chapter! You rock my socks so very much :D

Thanks also to all you other awesome readers, and all those who have reviewed so far: _akatsukifan, __AnimeGirlZoe, Axel IIX, broken neon star, C. Holywell-Black, Dai Uzimaki, Dani AnneMarie, Dr. Who's There, Echo1317, EpicAnime77, Escaping Dreams, eternalsnowfox, I Love Bleach, Kira the Wolf, MafiaGirl14, MasaJeevas, mima1216, moonfleur, Rainbow Rant (Never and Forever X), RikuLayke, ShadowedSerenity, the one who loves pickles, TopGearGirl, Usagi323, VennaKitty, VeryWithdrawn__, __xYourDearlyBeloved__ and __XxEnvyWrathXx__!_

**And of course, stay tuned!**


	41. Sachiko and Sayu

**A/N: I'll be starting my first office job tomorrow! It's an internship thing for school, and I'm really excited and nervous about it. Anyway, here's the next chapter. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note, just the OC version of A.**

**Note: In Japan, young people "come of age" when they turn twenty. **

* * *

**Chapter 41: Sachiko and Sayu**

* * *

We had timed it exactly so that we would enter the suite at midnight.

Matt flashed me a thumbs up, but I could tell he was as jittery as I was.

"Three... two... one..."

Our cell phones trilled simultaneously. I swiped the cardkey into the hotel room's card reader. The moment it blinked green, I pushed the door wide open, secretly dreading what was waiting for us inside.

"Let's go," I whispered. Clutching the tiramisu cakes to our chests like fragile valuables, Matt and I quietly ventured into the suite.

We were immediately greeted with the oddly breathtaking sight of the leather-clad man casually slumped against the far wall, surrounded by a smattering of candy wrappers. Matt's chrome laptop was nestled between his legs, humming noisily as if it had been running for hours. Mello's scarred face went slack with surprise when he glanced up from across the room, making eye contact with us for the first time in three – no, _four_ – days.

"Happy birthday, Mello."

The desperation in our voices seemed to linger in the air as we stared at each other expectantly. The only remaining sound was the faint ringing of a clock tower from afar as it struck once…twice...twelve times.

Palms sweaty, I held out the bakery boxes. Matt did the same, slowly and silently.

Mello uncurled himself from the floor, tugging off the headphones that were plugged into the computer. He took a heavy step forward, as if he were treading water, toward us and our peace offerings. The expression on his face was one of bemusement.

And then he smiled. It was a pained smile, but a smile nonetheless.

Relief flooded through me, and the excruciatingly cold tension that Mello had built up over the last few days seemed to melt out of the room, gradually but surely.

"You remembered," was all he said. His eyes were strangely unfocused, and his voice was somewhat thick.

"_December 13, 1989," _I recited, my mind flashing back to Mello's counterfeit passport. "You're twenty now."

"Congratulations. You're officially a man," Matt added, chuckling genuinely.

Mello didn't even react to Matt's jibe. "I haven't celebrated in years," he murmured. "I'd almost forgotten."

"Well, we haven't," Matt responded firmly, winking at me conspiratorially.

"I'm assuming those are for me." Mello gestured at the packages we were carrying. When I nodded, his lips twitched. He reached out a hand to snag them from us, and our fingers brushed very briefly before he plopped himself back down on the plush carpet.

Matt and I followed suit, sinking to our knees as we watched Mello skillfully untie the thin ribbons with one gloved hand. A few seconds later, all five lids had popped open and the older boy was peering curiously into the boxes. "Cake?"

"Not just any kind. It's chocolate tiramisu," I enthused.

"Huh," Mello mumbled, lifting out an intricately layered slice to inspect it. The soft scent of cocoa and cream wafted from the small dessert.

"Is that caveman for _thank you_?"

Mello shot Matt a disgruntled look. "Don't test me." He set down the cake and his face hardened once more. "I don't deserve this. There's something…"

"If you're talking about Takada's newscast, we already know about it," I interrupted him. "We saw it on TV."

A dark, guilty expression flittered across Mello's features. "I'm sorry you had to find out that way," he muttered, clenching his jaw tightly.

I gently patted his knee. "There's no need to apologize. In fact, as Matt said, it's great that we're finally going on the offensive."

"It's pretty boring doing nothing," Matt conceded. "This way, Kira has no choice but to try to catch us. We'll just have to catch him first."

Mello grimaced. "Him… and X-Kira."

My mouth suddenly went dry, and I followed his drifting gaze across the room to the abandoned laptop. "I was talking to Near before you came in. He'll explain the situation to you."

A few minutes later, the three of us were fitted with our own individual headsets. My stomach knotted in apprehension at the sound of Near's quiet voice on the other end of the line.

"_Good evening, Allie. Good evening, Matt. Or should I say, good morning?"_

"Hi there," I said awkwardly, addressing my greeting to the capital _N _splashed onto the whitened computer screen. The last I had seen Near, he had been escorted out of the suite by Commander Rester like a small prince or politician.

"Hey, Near," Matt chirped easily. "Guess what?"

"_I don't need to guess. I, too, am aware it is Mello's birthday today."_

"Yeah, whatever," Mello scoffed dismissively. "Near, just tell them –"

"_But it's a noteworthy day," _Near said dryly, despite Mello's flippant attitude. _"This calls for a celebration."_

Matt smirked. "I'm game."

"What? No, we have work to do. Near, just tell them what you said about X-Kira." The vein in Mello's forehead throbbed, signaling his obvious irritation and impatience.

"_Alright…well, we believe it's necessary to investigate Kiyomi Takada and NHN even further in order to capture whoever is currently executing criminals as Kira." _Near's tone was instantly crisp and business-like as he barreled on._ "This underling, this X-Kira, must've been handpicked by Kira himself… or L-Kira, as we'll call him. X-Kira clearly has one of the notebooks."_

"I wonder how Light Yagami managed to send it to them," I spoke up, my mind whirling with possibilities. "The other one's with the Japanese police, right?"

"_That's correct, and they are incompetent. Both L-Kira and X-Kira are clearly using Takada as a liaison. We know nothing of X-Kira; therefore, this person will be our main priority as of now," _the SPK leader explained, heavily emphasizing each of the declaration was followed by a barely audible clattering noise in the background. I had a nagging suspicion that he was playing with his finger puppets – or Lego pieces, at least.

"Near is suggesting…" Mello suddenly stopped mid-sentence.

"What?" Matt pressed, his narrowed eyes flickering between his best friend and the laptop.

"_I believe that a thorough investigation of the Yagami family is in order," _Near stated calmly.

Matt inhaled sharply and quickly glanced at Mello, who had visibly stiffened.

"Why?" I blurted out.

"_Commander Rester hasn't gotten the chance to look into Sachiko and Sayu Yagami yet…" _

"For fuck's sake, Near! The girl is practically catatonic," Mello snapped.

"_There's a 5% chance that it is just an act," _Near said bluntly. _"Who knows? Or perhaps, in her vulnerable state, she has been manipulated by her brother to assist him in his duties."_

"Ouch. That's just…" Matt began.

"Near, you're going too far," Mello cut in harshly.

"_I don't think so. Rester, Lidner and Gevanni all agree with me. Anyway, we will start by going through all of Japan's TV programs aired in the last three weeks. I shall let you know if we find any leads." _Near paused. _"Please let us know if you come across any clues, as well."_

"Wait a minute," Mello said heatedly, "so you're just going to assume _we'll_ do the field work? Send Rester to do it!"

"_I'd rather not," _Near countered evenly._ "Commander Rester is assisting me with the tapes at headquarters. It'll only take one person, two people at most, to look into our suspects, and younger people would be more inconspicuous. Allie, what do you think?"_

Two sets of eyes fell upon me, and I froze like a deer in headlights. _Oh no…_

_Sayu Yagami, Kira's younger sister. _The thought was improbable, but not impossible. I could see where Near was coming from, but at the same time, my gut told me that his motives weren't what they seemed to be – and my instincts were rarely ever wrong. I virtually lived by visual and aural cues, and it seemed to me that Near wasn't sharing his entire agenda with us.

_Sayu Yagami, the girl Mello kidnapped and traumatized._

What exactly was Near playing at? Was it mere curiosity, was there a hidden purpose, or was it strictly about finding more about Kira? And then I found myself imagining what it would be like to meet them – Kira's mother and sister – and for Mello to face them, knowing what he had personally done to them, the suffering he had knowingly and unknowingly caused.

_Don't deny it…you're curious too. _

Mello stared at me, his burning eyes cutting into me like white-hot knives. Suppressing a flinch, I finally replied, "I'd hate to play the devil's advocate, but I think it's a good idea to… tie up any loose ends."

By the stunned silence on our end, and from Near's soft hum of approval, I knew that I had successfully tipped the scales in Near's favor.

* * *

Several hours later, I woke up to find Matt sprawled in front of the TV and his laptop. He had opted to stay up all night in order to compile a list of websites, blogs, forums, TV programs and specific episodes for Near and the SPK to examine. Matt was typing away furiously, an unlit cigarette tucked behind his left ear like a writer's pencil. His hair was a ruffled, copper-brown mess. I couldn't help but smile at the familiar sight.

Allie had fallen asleep on the floor, her arm snaked protectively around one of the empty dessert boxes. After we had come to the decision that Allie and I would pay a visit to the Yagami residence first thing in the morning, I had polished off two of the tiramisu cakes in three minutes flat.

_Talk about drowning my sorrows in food, _I thought darkly. _Happy birthday to me._

I swiftly got changed, and then gently prodded the petite girl awake with the toe of my boot. She rolled over once and yawned, cracking open a bleary, hazel eye.

"Sorry about that," I murmured, bending down to nudge her cheek. "But we should get going soon."

"Good morning to you too, Mello." She gave me the once-over before bolting straight up in surprise.

Matt's head spun around to look at me. "Why are you dressed like…ah."

"I thought it would be appropriate."

Underneath my leather jacket, I was wearing a thin black turtleneck that I had purchased in Yokohama the other day, along with matching slacks and my combats – which, hidden underneath the pant legs, looked liked formal dress shoes. My gloves and rosary were safely stowed away in my pocket.

"I don't know what to wear," Allie told me anxiously, looking down at her jeans and long-sleeved top. It, too, was black, but there were tiny specks of red paint dotting the front. "This was the only black shirt I bought."

"You look fine," I told her hastily. "Come on. The flower shops are opening just about now."

"Flower shops…? Oh, I see."

A set of keys sailed through the air toward me, and I caught them between two fingers. "Thanks Matt," I called over my shoulder as I hustled Allie out of the suite.

"No problem, mate. You'd better take good care of my baby," he hollered after us.

Allie and Matt had done an excellent job of "working" on the car, and it had been done just in time, too. The Camaro sitting in the Perin's parking lot resembled nothing like the one that had been reported missing in the newspapers just two days ago.

We drove for about half an hour, eventually stopping at a flower boutique that I knew was located only a few blocks away from the Yagami residence.

With Allie's help, I picked out and purchased a bouquet of fresh cut, milky-white chrysanthemums for Sachiko and Sayu. _White for truth, grief…death. _I was eerily reminded of the roses I had placed on top of A's empty casket just six years ago – and again in my nightmarishly arousing dream two weeks previously.

We left Matt's "baby" parked at the florist's, and walked the remaining distance toward the address that I had long memorized since I had arranged Sayu's abduction overseas. The trek was surprisingly peaceful; Allie held my hand the entire time. By the time we had reached the ageing, wooden gates of their property, the painful lump in my throat had almost disappeared.

Almost.

The car stationed in the driveway told us that they were home. I rang the doorbell that was situated on the brick entrance, and then pushed through the gates. It hadn't even been ten seconds when the oak-paneled door swung wide open to reveal the 47-year-old Japanese woman. My breath hitched when I locked eyes with the mother of the world's greatest murderer…and the wife of the man who had never killed.

Sachiko Yagami's face was etched with confusion and suspicion. My hand subconsciously drifted to my scar, which I hadn't bothered hiding.

Allie stepped forward and bowed. "Good morning, Yagami-san," she said, pronouncing the Japanese words carefully. "We are friends of Sayu-chan."

"Oh," Sachiko said quietly, her eyes drifting to the bouquet I was carrying. "What is the occasion?"

I handed her one of the dozen chrysanthemums. "We're here to pay our condolences," I managed to say.

"Condolences? Well, thank you." The woman stared bleakly at the flower, her frail frame trembling underneath her faded maroon sweater.

"Is it alright if we visit Sayu for a while?" I barreled on determinedly.

"She hasn't had company for weeks. No, I don't think she's up for it," she whispered, quickly retreating into the house.

"No, wait!" I called desperately.

Allie gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. "Please, Yagami-san…we miss her," she told the older woman.

Sachiko stopped dead in her tracks, her slightly curved back turned to us. Then she sighed, and wordlessly beckoned us into her home.

At her simple gesture, my heart skipped a beat.

After taking off our shoes at the entrance, Allie and I silently followed the Japanese woman up the stairs and into a dimly-lit bedroom. The shades were drawn so that the whole place was thrown into shadow. My gaze fell upon the slim girl positioned at her desk, seemingly listening to the radio that was emitting an uplifting violin concerto.

_Sayu._

There was no other word for the girl in front of us but _shell. _

Confined to a wheelchair and bleached white from the lack of sun, Sayu Yagami looked little more than an oversized, porcelain doll. Her coffee-brown eyes were like vats of ink, dark and unseeing, and her hair hung at the sides of her face in limp, greasy curtains. Sayu gave no indication that she had noticed us enter her room, nor did she react when I placed the white flowers in the vase on her nightstand.

_This is no act, _I concluded with absolute certainty. _You were wrong, Near. So wrong. _I swallowed hard, ready to announce my departure. But before I could, Sachiko Yagami spoke up.

"You see? She can't hear you," she mumbled helplessly. "It's useless…it's useless to try."

And then something inside of me broke.

* * *

**A/N: To clarify, the Yagami residence is no longer under surveillance by the Task Force. It was lifted once L died and Light moved out of the house.**

**Special shout out: **to **moonfleur**, who was first to review the last chapter! Rock on :D

Thanks also to all you other great readers, and all those who have reviewed so far: _akatsukifan, AnimeGirlZoe, Axel IIX, broken neon star, Charlie Skyla Skies, C. Holywell-Black, Dai Uzimaki, Dani AnneMarie, Dr. Who's There, Echo1317, EpicAnime77, Escaping Dreams, eternalsnowfox, I Love Bleach, Kira the Wolf, MafiaGirl14, MasaJeevas, mima1216, -patterns-at-dusk-, Rainbow Rant (Never and Forever X), RikuLayke, ShadowedSerenity, the one who loves pickles, TopGearGirl, Usagi323, VennaKitty, VeryWithdrawn, xYourDearlyBeloved and XxEnvyWrathXx!_

**Reviews would be totally awesome! Thanks for reading (:**


	42. Conquer

**A/N: Thanks so much for the astoundingly positive feedback last chapter! It really inspires me and it definitely keeps me going. ****I also must apologize for that slight delay – my first week of work was incredibly intense and time-consuming. **

**Disclaimer: I just own the OC version of A.**

**Note: This chapter contains excerpts from Volume 11.**

* * *

**Chapter 42: Conquer**

* * *

"_I'm sorry, Near. I'm sorry, Mello. There's nothing you can do. It's useless to try. Just let her rest…" _

"_Shut up, Roger! You're a fool! Where is Watari?"_

_The old man flinched, raising his arms as if to ward off an attack. "He's in Japan right now…he's with L…"_

"_Tell them to get their asses straight back here," I demanded._

"_Mello, you know that won't happen."_

"_Isn't the welfare of L's number one successor more important than the case?" Near's words were diplomatic, but his voice was low, cold, and as threatening as mine. The pajama-clad boy swung around to point at his bedridden friend on the other side of the infirmary window. "Does L know about A yet?"_

_Roger sighed, pushing up his spectacles to peer at the corpse-like girl in question. "Yes, but his hands are tied. Kira is his main priority at the moment."_

"_Kira? Kira just killed Beyond this morning," I spat out. "L's second-in-line is dead, his first is now catatonic. All the orphans are in an uproar. Why are we just standing here, twiddling our thumbs?"_

"_Now, Mello," Roger said gravely, "the doctors have already diagnosed Alternative with post-traumatic stress. Just a little more treatment and she should be back on her feet in no time…"_

"_Ax needs L, not pharmaceuticals," Near pressed, clearly agitated. "He is like a father figure to her. If she is having trouble coping with stress, only L will be able to alleviate it."_

"_But A is getting some of the best medical care in the world," Roger insisted. _

"_Well, it's not the kind of care she needs." _

I blinked, and the memory of 12-year-old Alexandra rapidly dissipated into the reality of 20-year-old Sayu Yagami.

The first time I had ever laid eyes on Sayu Yagami, she was just a two-dimensional, photographed target: the daughter of the Japanese Deputy Director. Without a second thought, I had relayed the order to my men stationed in Tokyo to intercept her, making it abundantly clear that she was to arrive alive, unharmed, and untouched.

They had immediately whisked this soft, surely-pampered girl away from her home, tossing her right into my personally crafted hell.

The second time was when she arrived at our hideout in Los Angeles, eleven hours later. I had watched Eddie and Dreads bind and gag her from my comfortable zebra-striped throne of a seat at the surveillance monitors – all the while listening to her desperate father beg for proof of her safety over the phone, idly pondering how it could be that one simple girl could be more precious than the notebook.

No, I knew the answer. I just wasn't able to comprehend it.

Somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind, I had been tremendously impressed that Soichiro Yagami was quick to act, relieved that he was so willing to accept my terms. I, for one, did not want another bloodbath on my hands, especially when innocent lives were involved. Everything had been painstakingly planned to the minute – from the plane hijacking to the missile launch – and as I had hoped, both Yagamis were released unscathed.

Or so I'd thought.

According to Y320 – my informant at the SPK – Near had been keeping tabs on Soichiro Yagami ever since the exchange for the notebook. Rumors were flying that he was considering filing for a dishonorable discharge in order to take care of his daughter, who had elapsed into an intensive state of post-traumatic shock after her rescue. That was one of the last things Ill Ratt had ever told us before Rod Ross obediently jotted his name down in our newly acquired notebook, along with eight other known members of the SPK. I had derisively called it _tying up loose ends. _

Amidst popping champagne, dancing call-girls and celebrating men, and I had wallowed alone in my bittersweet victory, unable to shake off _her _voice, _her _cries for her father.

And here she was again, in the flesh and blood.

Sayu, a three-dimensional, breathing victim, and the daughter of the man who had spared my life. The girl before me was a living ghost, a numb and shattered soul encased in an otherwise healthy body. I wanted so desperately to shake the girl, shake her out of her serene, self-induced stupor. But instead, I took a deep, calming breath.

"Don't…don't say that," I said hoarsely.

Sachiko Yagami's dull eyes sparked with bewilderment. "I beg your pardon?"

"It's not useless," I replied more calmly than I felt. "Nothing is irreparable until you give up hope. You must be strong for your daughter. Sayu needs you."

_Like A needed L._

The Japanese woman gaped at me. "I-I know that," she stammered, her pale skin taking on a reddish tinge. "Thank you for those…kind words."

There was a lengthy pause, which was only broken when Allie suddenly sneezed. "Excuse me," she apologized sheepishly. "Where is the bathroom?"

"It's just down the hallway, on the right." Sachiko offered Allie a wan smile.

"Thank you." Allie turned to me. "I'm going to look around," she whispered, switching to English. "I'll let you know if I find anything."

I nodded, understanding immediately.

Bowing politely, Allie exited the room, but not before she gave my hand a final, reassuring squeeze. As soon as she left, I returned my attention to the pair of females remaining – the pair of females I had unwittingly destroyed in my pursuit of Kira and the notebook.

_What have I done?_

Collateral damage was an inevitability of every war, I knew that, and yet, I had never felt so ignorant, ashamed and monstrous in my entire twenty years of existence. I was the king of sins, and here I was, finally falling apart at the seams for what I had truly done. I, Mihael Keehl, had shot, stabbed, maimed and killed other human beings, but I had never once come face to face with the unnecessary casualties bound to my fallen prey.

Until now.

"I don't mean to pry…" Sachiko's fragile voice broke through my thoughts. "…but I didn't catch your name."

"It's Mitchell. Mitchell Kant," I replied automatically, using the name on my fake passport.

"Mitchell," Sayu's mother repeated curiously. "Sayu hasn't mentioned you before."

"We just met a while ago. I transferred here at the start of the fall semester," I lied smoothly.

"Oh, I see."

The wordless silence was deafening, and the room was unusually warm. The radio's violin solo had been replaced by a weather forecast, but I paid no heed to it. Instead, my eyes kept darting to the door, willing Allie to waltz right back through. _She's taking too long. Sachiko might become suspicious. _I slipped off my heavy jacket, feeling uncomfortable from the heat of the radiators.

Nothing in the world could have prepared me for what happened next.

"What the…!"

I stumbled slightly as Sayu's hand suddenly shot out, seizing me violently by the tail of my turtleneck sweater.

"Sayu!" Sachiko all but shrieked.

The young woman jerked her head upward to study my face. I held my breath as I gazed back down at the ailing girl in the wheelchair. For a moment, I could have sworn I saw her dim, vacant eyes flicker with recognition as they raked over my neck, my chest...

_No, that's not possible. She's never seen me before._

Sayu released my sweater from her grasp, wrapping her slender fingers around my wrist instead. Her bloodless lips parted.

"Onii-chan?"

* * *

I shivered the moment I stepped into the adjacent bedroom.

It was clear that no one had been sleeping here for months. The single bed was neatly made, without a trace of creasing, and there was a fine layer of dust collecting on the many bookshelves that lined the walls. On the opposite end of the room was a long desk, where a computer and a television sat side by side.

This was where Light Yagami had once slept, read and studied. I shuddered again. This, possibly, was also where Kira schemed, worked and killed.

I stood at the entrance of Light's former room, my feelings wavering between curious and cautious. I had told Sachiko I needed to use the bathroom, and I had told Mello that I was planning on looking around for clues. Without rousing suspicion, I had left Mello alone with Sayu and Sachiko Yagami – as according to plan.

Or, at least, what I suspected to be Near's true plan.

I took a deep breath. "He knew this would happen, didn't he?" I thought aloud.

My heart had nearly stopped upon seeing the traumatized girl in the other room, the girl that Mello had abducted. Watching the scarred, terrifyingly beautiful man fight back his emotions had only made things worse. I had watched the ex-Mafia ringleader's bright eyes cloud over with pity, then rage and self-hatred. I had watched his throat contract and expand as he swallowed his guilt, and I had watched Mello's mouth twist with agony as it moved – and though I couldn't understand a word he was saying, I could hear the humility underlying his low voice.

That was when I had realized the possibility that Near had been counting on this all along. _This_…confrontation of sorts.

The SPK leader hadn't suggested this so-called visit to the Yagami household for the sole purpose of the investigation. No, there had to be much more to it than that. Near was hoping for something else, and I was pretty sure I knew what it was.

This wasn't about Sayu or Sachiko. This was about Mello, and his mistakes.

Near had given Mello a chance to face the music. And to, perhaps, redeem himself.

_Maybe I'm just reading into it too much, _I mused. _I shouldn't be psychoanalyzing Near, of all people, in the first place. _

It was a far-fetched theory, but there was only one way to find out: to go along with it.

I didn't bother wasting any more time hanging out in Light's old bedroom. Instead, I quickly made my way down the hallway and into the bathroom. I flushed the toilet once, and then hurried back to Sayu's bedroom.

I gasped.

Sayu's mother was openly crying into Mello's chest, her dark hair blending into the black fabric of his turtleneck. Mello was awkwardly patting her back with one hand, while his other was being closely examined by none other than Sayu herself.

_What's going on? _I mouthed to the older boy.

Mello stared at me over Sachiko's head, his eyes frantic. "Sayu's hallucinating. She thinks…she thinks I'm her brother."

"W-what? Why?" My gaze traveled back and forth between Sachiko's trembling shoulders and Sayu's enraptured expression.

"I dunno…"

The slim girl dropped Mello's hand abruptly, leaning forward in her wheelchair to bury her nose into the hem of Mello's sweater. Sayu sighed, resting her head against Mello's waist. She spoke a few more words, pointing at the book sitting on her desk.

Sachiko immediately reacted by straightening her back and looking at Mello hopefully, who in turn responded by nodding reluctantly at Sayu.

"Grab a seat, Allie," Mello muttered as Sayu's mother left the room. "Looks like we'll be staying here for a while."

"Where's she going? What's happening?"

"She's making us some tea," Mello replied softly. "They want me to… read to Sayu…"

Sayu perked up at the mention of her name, and an excited noise escaped her throat as she hugged Mello's leg tightly, chattering away in a lively manner. Mello blanched as he listened to Sayu speak. He murmured tenderly into Sayu's ear, looking sick to his stomach.

"What is she saying?" I inquired.

"She's…she's asking me whether I'm home for good. Whether the Kira investigation is finally over. Whether…whether or not I had arrested the people who killed her father..." Mello suddenly broke off. A single tear slid down his rough, marred cheek.

And in that instant – despite my better judgment – I fell, hard.

_Oh, God. It's only been three weeks. Be careful._

"Mello…" I whispered, reaching out to touch him. I could hardly breathe.

Mello swatted my hand away, and smeared his face with a vicious swipe of his palm. "I don't need your pity."

"I'm not…I'm not offering you pity. I…I…"

_Allie, no!_

My heart hammered against my ribcage with the force of a thousand armies as the words hung precariously on the tip of my tongue. Mello's vivid eyes burned into me as he waited for me to finish stuttering like an idiot.

_Just say it. Say it, and you won't have to wonder anymore. _

And when I did, Sayu's mother returned with a tray of teacups and sugar cubes.

* * *

The rest of the day passed in a numbing, surreal blur. After I had finished reading the book – which had turned out to be a large volume of folklore and fairytales – to Sayu and her mother, Sachiko Yagami insisted that Allie and I stay for a late lunch. Despite our protests, she had gone ahead and conjured up a meal of rice, fish and steamed vegetables. Sayu did most of the talking, while the rest of us played along, pretending as if it really was Light, and not me, who was at the kitchen table.

When we finally left, exchanging pained words of gratitude with each other, evening had already fallen and the ground outside was covered by a thin blanket of shimmering frost. I drove us back to the hotel in a trance-like state, finding it extremely hard to concentrate on the darkening roads.

There was only one thing on my mind, and she was sitting beside me, fidgeting silently, refusing to meet my eyes.

"Where have you guys been?" Matt demanded the instant we slipped into the brightly-lit suite. I immediately took note of the newspapers strewn across the carpeted floor. On the front page were photos of four women, three of whom were Japanese and very masculine. The fourth was Halle, whose kohl-rimmed eyes glared up at me from underneath jagged platinum bangs. Her blood-red mouth was set in a firm, grim line.

"_Lady Takada chooses four bodyguards_," I murmured, reading the bolded headline.

"I tried calling you, like, ten times," Matt continued.

"I switched off my cell," I told him, yanking off my jacket and throwing it across one of the armchairs.

"Have you and Near made any progress with finding a suspect for X-Kira?" Allie asked quietly.

"Yeah, as a matter of fact, we have," Matt declared, clapping gleefully. "That's what I've been waiting to tell you guys."

"That was fast," I remarked.

"What can I say? We're good at looking." Matt cantered over to his laptop, and pulled up a video clip for us to see. "His name is Teru Mikami. Enjoy!"

The raven-haired man was standing in front of the gaudy backdrop for Kira's Kingdom, speaking solemnly into the microphone in his hand. His dark eyes flashed with longing as he announced, _"If there are no orders or words from Kira, I believe that I am going to have to judge by myself what Kira's thoughts may be, and put them into action."_

Matt put the video on pause. "Suspicious, isn't it? Demegawa died four days before this statement, and four days after it, Takada was chosen by Kira as the next spokesperson. This was after Near told L that the thirteen day rule was a lie_, _and after Mogi went to him following your orders, and after Aizawa went to see him," he explained. "And as Near said, this most definitely exerted pressure on Light Yagami, who had no other choice but to pass along Misa Amane's notebook to a Kira worshipper…this man, Teru Mikami."

"Yes," I breathed, adrenaline flooding my system. I clenched my fists in triumph. "We're almost there now. I can feel it."

Allie smiled at him. "Great work, Matt."

"Don't I always do a good job?" The goggled boy wrenched me and Allie by the arms, pulling us close for an enthusiastic group hug. "Let's conquer this son of a bitch!"

Allie's eyes finally met mine as we accepted Matt's embrace. As soon as we broke apart, I scooped her into my arms again, surprising everyone there – including myself. _Alright, it's time to do this._

"Mello...what…?"

"Er, I guess I'll leave you two alone," Matt preened as he inched his way out of the room and into the bathroom. When I heard the door click shut, I turned my gaze to the girl I was holding securely against my body.

"What's this about?" she whispered.

"Don't play dumb," I said huskily, fighting for control of my voice. "Earlier…what you said at Sayu's house...did you mean it?"

I had to know. I _had _to know for sure.

Allie flushed with mortification. "I don't say things I don't mean. But obviously, you don't feel as strongly as I do."

"No, you couldn't be more wrong," I whispered, kissing her so gently that her entire body trembled. "Because I love you, too."

* * *

**A/N: This is the corniest I'll ever get, I promise. Anyway. ****Here's a bit of trivia - the number '42' is considered extremely lucky in the Chinese and Japanese cultures, as it is homophonous with 'die easily', 'easy death', or 'to death' – since the number '4' sounds like the word for 'death'.**

**Shoutout: **to **xYourDearlyBeloved**, who was first to review the last chapter, and who's one of the coolest and most talented people ever! Check out her stories and see for yourself :D!

**Special mention: **to **annee loves sasusaku **for submitting the 300th review. Argh, that's just totally awesome ^_^

Thanks also to all you other great readers, and all those who have reviewed so far: _akatsukifan, AnimeGirlZoe, annee loves sasusaku, Axel IIX, broken neon star, Charlie Skyla Skies, C. Holywell-Black, Dai Uzimaki, Dani AnneMarie, Dr. Who's There, Echo1317, EpicAnime77, Escaping Dreams, eternalsnowfox, I Love Bleach, Kira the Wolf, MafiaGirl14, MasaJeevas, MaskedAngel18, mima1216, moonfleur, -patterns-at-dusk-, Rainbow Rant (Never and Forever X), RikuLayke, ShadowedSerenity, Shy Rose24, the one who loves pickles, TopGearGirl, Usagi323, VennaKitty, VeryWithdrawn and XxEnvyWrathXx!_

**Thanks for reading! :)**


	43. Triangles and Tangles

**A/N: Hope everyone's been having a great week! Mine has been busy, busy, busy…blargh! Anyway, onward! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note, just the OC version of A.**

**Note: This chapter contains excerpts from Volume 11, plus lots and lots of Mogi goodness, and some romantic fluff.**

* * *

**Chapter 43: Triangles and Tangles**

* * *

"So why aren't _I_ the final singer? Everybody was saying that _I'm_ the highlight of the show this year." Misa Amane stared down at the glossy floor sullenly, balling her small hands into fists as she and Mogi made their way through the nearly empty halls of the NHN studio. The corridors rang with the loud, high-pitched clicks of Misa's leather boots, which seemed to echo and accentuate her irritation.

Mogi patted Misa on the back as comfortingly as he could. "Well, you are a highlight of the show. But it's traditional to have one of the big name singers close the show…" The large man flinched behind the tiny girl, fully expecting her to burst into an angry tirade directed at him.

But it never came.

"Huh!" Misa gasped, halting to an abrupt stop.

Mogi glanced up to see Kiyomi Takada saunter by in her fur-trimmed trench coat, smiling serenely behind the protection of a pair of designer sunglasses and four sharply-dressed bodyguards… one of whom was –

"She's so stupid!" Misa drawled, a crazed, obnoxious look crossing her features. "She doesn't even know that Light's just using her to investiga – "

Mogi was slow to react. Or perhaps he was actually egging her on at a subconscious level. "Whoa!" he exclaimed, clapping two massive hands over Misa's glossy mouth. The blonde model smacked them away in defiance.

The hulking detective wiped a bead of sweat from his temple before whispering urgently, "You shouldn't say that. If anybody hears you, you'll be killed…"

"I know. That's why I'm saying it in a low voice," Misa snapped, refusing to take her eyes off the younger woman in front of her.

Kiyomi Takada suddenly tilted her head to one side, as if she had just noticed Mogi and Misa standing there. Slowing her pace, she slipped off her sunglasses and gazed briefly at Mogi before arching her thin brow at Misa. Takada smirked, turning on her heel to follow her guards.

"Hey… _hey_!" Misa squealed in disbelief. "She _sneered_ at me! I'm going to give her a kick!"

"Hey! Misa, no!" Mogi shouted, lunging forward to restrain his agitated principal.

But it was too late; Misa had already rushed ahead of him, her pigtails and ruffled skirt flapping in the air as she charged toward Takada.

In a flash, a steely-faced Halle Lidner intercepted the Japanese idol, yanking both of Misa's arms roughly and pinning them behind her back. Misa was thrust downward until her face was just hovering inches above the polished floor. Mogi could only watch in horror, unsure of what to say or do.

"What's the meaning of this?" the American woman demanded harshly, glaring down at her captive.

"Y-you took the words right out of my mouth, lady…" Misa winced visibly as Lidner tightened her grip around Misa's wrists. "Ouch…"

The three other women who were meant to be guarding Takada stared at Halle in astonishment, clearly impressed and humbled by the former CIA agent's lightning-fast reflexes. Kiyomi Takada merely smiled; she had chosen well. Misa locked gazes with her, unwilling to blink or look away.

Takada gestured majestically. "Lidner, she's a good friend of mine, and she only came near to say hi to me. Please don't mistreat her."

"Yes, I'm very sorry." Halle released the other blonde immediately, and with a plaintive whimper, Misa dropped to the floor.

Mogi waited until Takada and her entourage rounded the corner before hurrying over to help the fallen girl up.

"Th-that was so frustrating! Is _she _the one closing the show?" Misa wailed, kicking and flailing within Mogi's grasp. Her normally fair skin was flushed with humiliation, and Mogi felt his ever-growing pity for her deepen even further.

"Misa, you have to be quiet," Mogi told her softly.

To his relief, Misa fell silent, and the bulky man carefully lifted the young woman to her feet, guiding her outside to the waiting limousine. As soon as Misa was seated, the first thing she did was reach for the bottle of champagne stashed inside the limo's built-in cooler bucket. A loud hissing noise filled the limo as the petite blonde popped the cork with undisguised enthusiasm. She proceeded to chug half the contents down, staring Mogi straight in the eye as she did so.

Mogi gulped. He knew that look.

"Misa's twenty-fifth birthday is coming up," the Japanese idol began coyly.

Mogi nodded, pasting on a broad, toothy smile. "In twelve days, Misa-Misa."

Misa flicked her hair back, clearly pleased by his acknowledgment. "You know what that means, right, Motchi?"

He grimaced. Misa had been hounding him for the last week about planning a huge, media and publicity-worthy birthday celebration, but he had always been successful at dodging and changing the subject.

Misa pouted at him. "You haven't started yet, have you?"

Mogi fidgeted. "No…"

"Well, good!" the blonde declared, taking another swig of the champagne. Mogi furrowed his brow in confusion. "Because I've changed my mind," Misa elaborated, swiping at the alcohol seeping from the corner of her crimson lips. "I don't want a big party anymore."

Her acting manager breathed a sigh of relief – too soon.

"Misa wants a nice, romantic candlelit dinner with Light," Misa continued, her face softening as she beamed at him. "What do you think? Motchi can cook for us, right?"

The man hesitated.

At thirty-six years of age, Kanzo Mogi wasn't as passionate as Light or Matsuda, but he wasn't as stiff as Ide or Aizawa either. He was somewhere in the middle, a completely different kind of professional. That was why he preferred to work as a field agent, as opposed to doing desk work all day – not that he wasn't efficient with that as well.

But this... this was no ordinary field work.

Mogi was only eleven years older than the woman he was supposed to be guarding, but Misa's childlike appearance and persona made him feel two generations apart from the younger woman. To make matters worse, the more time he spent keeping an eye on – no, _taking care of – _Misa, the more Mogi felt sorry for her. It had only been two and a half weeks since he'd started surveillance on the Second Kira suspect at Aizawa's request, yet he had already been subject to her life stories, mood swings, emotional outbursts, immature tantrums and spoiled behavior. Misa Amane was, without a doubt, a pitiful creature.

But that wasn't all she was.

Mogi saw the way the popular idol smiled for the cameras. She loved them, and they loved her back. Plain and simple. Misa also smiled at Mogi whenever he let her latch onto his arm while shopping or brought her tea without being prompted, smiling even more when he smiled back, secretly torn between sympathy and empathy. Misa was cordial when she wanted or needed to be, but she was ultimately alone, disconnected from the real world. And, being in a league of his own, Mogi understood that. There was no doubt that personal bias was already starting to cloud his judgment.

That was why the man had to choose his words very carefully.

"I could, but I don't think Light will be able to attend," Mogi finally replied, his voice low and apologetic. "He is extremely busy with the investigation." How many times had he said that? How many times had he used the same excuse, over and over again?

Misa clenched her fists in her lap, her knuckles whitening as she spoke. "He's _busy_ with Kiyomi! Don't even bother lying, Motchi!"

To Mogi's surprise, instead of yelling at him even more, Misa muttered something to herself and began pawing through her crystal-embellished clutch. He had to strain to hear what she was saying.

_"...won't spend another... alone... she won't say no..."_

"Misa-Misa?"

The blonde fished out her cell phone, flipping it open with a dramatic flourish. "A-ha!"

"Who are you calling at this time of night, Misa?" Mogi asked, his heart fluttering with suspicion. It was like watching a train wreck; his mind could only draw a blank as he watched her manicured fingers jab excitedly at the keypad.

"You'll see. The dinner's still on, Motchi," Misa announced, squirming happily in her seat. "And Light will come, too. _Just you wait and see_."

* * *

Mello loved me. Mello. Loved. Me. It was crazy but true.

_So he was just waiting for the right moment to say it back_. I happily blinked away my embarrassment and pressed my lips against Mello's. "So you weren't weirded out or anything?"

"Not at all. I'm sorry for making you wait the whole day," Mello murmured, stroking my cheek. "I was afraid you were just saying it for my sake. To, you know, cheer me up."

"Well, did it work?" I deadpanned.

"Hell yeah."

I rested my forehead against his collarbone. "Then I'll say it again. I love you, Mello."

He took a deep breath, squeezing me tightly – almost urgently – before saying, "It's... it's Mihael."

"Hmm?"

"My real name is Mihael Keehl."

I froze, feeling the blood rush from my brain to my feet as I processed his admission. The truth. And if I wasn't already convinced before, I definitely was now. "Mihael Keehl," I repeated the name numbly. It suited him. _Mihael Keehl._ It was elegant, European-sounding, and somehow… _familiar._

"Mello, you didn't have to tell me."

"I'm honoured to. Besides, it was about time you found out as well. Everyone else already knows."

"Lucky them," I joked, though I secretly felt out of the loop.

Mello's serious face broke out into a knowing grin as he gazed down at me. "Don't look so glum. You're too beautiful for that."

"Hmph."

His smile widened. "Cat got your tongue?"

I scowled slightly. "It's just that the last time someone called me beautiful_ –"_

"Shh. That's all in the past. You don't need to worry about anything like _that_ with me," Mello stated firmly, his chest puffing out with pride. "There's nothing else to it. I love you."

My heart soared to unfathomable heights at his pronouncement. Comfortable, content and tingling all over, I burrowed deeper into his warm embrace, looking up at the angelic vision that was Mello. "Say that again. I want to hear it once more."

"Just once?" he murmured. His half-lidded eyes shone as he raised my fingertips to his smirking mouth, nipping and kissing each one. "I'll say it as many times as you'd like. I'll say it until you get sick and tired of hearing it. I'll say it until you tell me to shut the hell up _–"_

_"_I KNEW IT!"

There was a loud bang as the bathroom door crashed right open, and in a flurry of stripes, wool and denim, Matt leapt, knocking me and Mello straight to the ground.

"I knew it," the lanky boy crowed again, bouncing up and down on top of our legs. "You two make me sick to my stomach. So, Near, I guess we've got ourselves two little lovebirds. Why, I believe congratulations are in order!"

Mello gave his friend a mighty shove, and Matt immediately rolled away, breathlessly clutching his stomach. "Shut your trap _– _wait, did you just say _Near_?"

"I sure did." Matt pointed at his laptop, which still had the paused "Kira's Kingdom" clip splashed across the screen. Matt crawled over to the computer and minimized the image of the shaggy-haired man, and Teru Mikami's face was instantly replaced by a familiar white window. "Our homeboy heard the entire thing."

As if on cue, the speakers crackled, sounding as though someone had just coughed on the other end of the line.

_"Homeboy?" _The SPK leader sounded bemused.

"Matt!" Mello snapped, reddening with indignation. He banged his head against the plush carpet, fuming at the ceiling above us.

I, on the other hand, recovered quickly from the mortification of being overheard and clambered off the floor, making my way toward Matt and, in a sense, Near.

"Near?" I asked, crouching in front of the laptop. "It's me."

"_Good evening."_

"You can say that again," I replied, smiling to myself.

"_I am glad for you and Mello. I had predicted this would happen. Well then, shall we __get down to business?" _Near didn't even bother waiting for an answer._ "Do you have any news regarding the Yagami family?"_

"Depends what kind of news you're looking for," I responded, thinking of my hunch. _Was Near actually counting on Mello having an emotional epiphany? _

Near was quiet for a moment. _"So they're all okay?" _he droned, just as cryptically.

"In their own way, yes." I caught Matt's eye. He was looking at me curiously.

"_Perfect." _

So I was right. Near had used Sayu as a means to help Mello come to terms with his guilt, and it had worked. As a bonus, Mello didn't even suspect a thing. However, whether or not Near had done it out of compassion or something else still remained a mystery to me.

"What's going on?" Mello asked sharply, sticking his head over my shoulder and practically breathing down my neck.

_"I was just telling Allie that we need to keep an eye on Teru Mikami over the next few days."_

Mello plopped down beside me. "That's right. We'll need a tail or two. Matt and I would probably stand out too much, though."

"I'll be too busy tracing Takada's emails, anyway," Matt added, propping himself up with his elbows. "I won't have time to play cloak and dagger."

"_Don't worry, Gevanni is good at stalking people."_

I was summoning up the courage to volunteer for the position of the second tail when my cell phone suddenly vibrated in my pocket, sending shockwaves through my body. The only people who had my number were my parents, Rick, Sara, Mello, Matt, and…

The room was deathly silent as I flipped the phone open, reading the number that scrolled across the small, luminescent screen. I rubbed my eyes to make sure I wasn't imagining things. But I wasn't, and my stomach dropped about a mile.

"It's Misa Amane."

* * *

"Light? Is that you?" Misa warbled into her cell phone. "Damn it. Misa hates voicemail! Anyway, Misa has something to tell you, so call me back as soon as you can, darling!" She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "Because it has to do with the Kira investigation. Misa knows someone who has a _lot_ of evidence. Kay, bye, talk to you later!"

With that, Misa cheerfully stretched out her limbs. "One down, one more to go!"

Mogi shook his head, willing himself not to groan out loud. That was low, even for Misa. He shouldn't have been surprised, though. Misa was growing more and more desperate for Light's company by the day. It was clear that the alcohol had unhinged her ability to think and behave rationally. After all, what kind of person would try to coerce their lover into a simple date?

Misa began to hum to herself as she dialed the next number.

Mogi narrowed his eyes.

"Aaawwwlliiiiiie," Misa suddenly breathed, her cheeks flushed from the champagne. Her speech was slurred, making the English name barely comprehensible.

Just barely.

_Allie. _Mogi nearly choked on his spit. _Damn it, this can't be good._

"Yeah, it's Misa! I'm soooo sorry for leaving you like that! Motchi said Light didn't want anyone knowing we were going back to Japan… awww, thanks for understanding! Misa looooves you!"

"Misa, you're drunk," Mogi hissed, reaching for the phone.

For the second time that night, Misa slapped his hand away. "No! Stop that! No, not you… okay, hear Misa out, Allie. We're so sorry for ditching you! Let Misa and Motchi make it up to you, okay? When's your winter break?"

Mogi stiffened. _Surely, she wouldn't…?_

Misa paused, and her eyes lit up gleefully. "Yay!" she practically screamed. "So what do you say to visiting Japan for Christmas? You can bring your whole family with you, and they'll see what it's like living as a Hollywood star! That's what you want, isn't it? Misa will pay for your expenses, promise!" Her face fell almost immediately, and the bottle of champagne returned to her lips once more.

"Misa, stop," Mogi said frantically, but his efforts were futile.

"Shush!" Misa squealed, tossing the now-empty bottle to the floor of the limousine. "Allie, Misa insists. Plus," she added, a sly look overtaking her bubbly features, "my fiancé wants to meet you. Yes, Misa has told him all about you!" Misa winked at Mogi, indicating that her fib was doing its job.

_No_, Mogi wanted to shout. _Misa, what have you done?_

* * *

**A/N: Poor, misguided Misa. **

**Shout out: **to **xYourDearlyBeloved**, who was first to review the last chapter! *gives Chocolate Frogs*

Thanks also to all you other awesome readers, new alerters/favoriters, and all those who have **recently** reviewed: _akatsukifan, AnimeGirlZoe, annee loves sasusaku, broken neon star, Charlie Skyla Skies, C. Holywell-Black, Dai Uzimaki, Dr. Who's There, Escaping Dreams, Kira the Wolf, MafiaGirl14, MasaJeevas, MaskedAngel18, mima1216, moonfleur,_ _Ovalord of da Empia of cookies, -patterns-at-dusk-, RWolfe94, ShadowedSerenity, Shy Rose24, TopGearGirl, Usagi323, VennaKitty, and xYourDearlyBeloved!_

As for everyone else, you're still definitely in my heart, just wanted you to know that :)

**Reviews are much appreciated; thanks so much for reading! **


	44. Stimuli

**A/N: Thanks for all the amazing feedback last week! It's because of you guys that I get inspired to work on this, every single day. You really got me pumped to write this ;) **

**Disclaimer: This is just a fan fiction; I only own the OC version of A. **

**Note: I had to do some research for this chapter. Sources used include Wikipedia and... well, Google xD **

* * *

**Chapter 44: Stimuli **

* * *

Kiyomi Takada and her female bodyguards had reached the designated hotel in record time. Now that Takada's main escorts had whittled down to four, it was much easier to coordinate their movements in and out of NHN – not to mention the anchorwoman's not-so-secret meetings with a certain anonymous acquaintance.

With a flick of her dainty hand, Takada dismissed the other four women to their respective posts. Each of them was to patrol the hallways while Kira's spokesperson tended to her personal business.

"You're early tonight, Takada."

As usual, Light Yagami was already waiting for her inside the suite. He greeted her with an adoring smile and a passion-filled embrace, and Takada couldn't help but melt blissfully into his crisp flannel shirt, purring inwardly.

"I bumped into Amane at the studio tonight," Takada said casually once they broke apart, a small smirk playing on her lips. She slipped off her coat, hanging it in the entranceway closet alongside Light's blazer. "Or rather, she had a run-in with my guards. It was quite unpleasant, actually."

"How bothersome," Light commented, just as coolly. With an appraising gaze, he added, "Just ignore her. Alright, Kiyomi?"

Takada arched a finely-shaped brow at the younger man. "Sure…"

Just as they were about to settle down into their seats at the coffee table, a low buzzing sound reached their ears. Light slapped at his back pocket in annoyance and fished out his cell phone. A surprised expression flashed across his handsome face when he glanced at the caller ID.

"Speak of the devil," Light muttered, scowling slightly at the display.

In one fluid motion, Takada reached out and snatched the cell away from her lover. "Misa Amane," the raven-haired beauty stated dryly. "Just ignore her, right?" Her tone was nonchalant – lighthearted, almost – but even Light knew better than to challenge the proud, daring look in her eyes. He nodded curtly, and the couple waited for the phone stopped vibrating in the palms of Takada's hands, allowing the call to go directly to voicemail.

As soon as it did, Takada deftly flipped the cell open. "May I do the honours?" she asked teasingly.

Light shrugged, loosening his tie before getting up to prepare the tea. "Go ahead, be my guest."

Takada promptly deleted the message. _Soon_, she thought decidedly, _someone will have to set things straight with Amane._

Someone like _her_.

* * *

"So they're all okay?"

Allie's response was tentative. _"In their own way, yes."_

"Perfect."

Where Mello was concerned, seeing Sayu Yagami had done its trick. However, it had also fallen short of Near's other expectations.

_What a disappointment…_

While Allie and Mello had been out on their soul-searching expedition, the SPK leader had spent a good three hours researching traumatic brain injuries, prolonged retrograde amnesia, and therapeutic methods with Matt. By noon, the two Wammy's House alumni had already arrived at their conclusion.

A clear-cut solution simply did not exist.

Still, nearly every acclaimed neurologist, psychologist and psychiatrist seemed to agree on one thing: stimuli were an important factor in any type of recovery – including the partial or total recall of repressed memories. Near had been hoping that witnessing Sayu in her fragile state would trigger at least a flashback on Allie's part. Unfortunately, that obviously hadn't been the case.

But the moment Mello revealed to Allie his true name, something else clicked inside of Near's head – and he was certain that miles away, hearing _Mihael Keehl _was having a similar effect on his old friend. She just didn't know _why_. Not yet, anyway.

So Near began to think.

As previously confirmed by Aizawa, Mello's birth name had been discovered using the Shinigami Eyes. Before that, no one had known his name, not even Roger.

_No one except…_

A certain, painful memory rippled within his sharp mind as Near put two and two together, recalling Beyond Birthday's parting words the day he had escaped from the orphanage to flee to the United States.

_"Merry Christmas, River. Good-bye, Keehl. See you both in hell!"_

Beyond had addressed them both by their real names – but that wasn't the point. No, what was significant was the fact that Near had been completely unfazed by it, unlike Mello. And it was all because of a mistake Ax committed years ago.

It had been the morning of his seventh birthday when L's number one successor had slipped up for the first and only time in Near's living memory. The younger girl had awakened him with a kiss on the cheek, a duck plushie and a chubby-faced grin.

_"Happy birthday, Nate!"_

Near had almost tumbled straight out of his bed, wide-eyed with wonder and horror.

After the initial shock for both parties had worn off, Alternative had gone on to confess that she and B knew everyone's true names – including L's. Backup had somehow gotten a hold of the unattainable; Wammy's House did not keep files of their residents' past lives on paper. L and Watari, however, were completely unaware of their little secret, just the way B wanted it. This was his and A's thing, and theirs alone – almost like an inside joke.

Only there was nothing remotely funny about it.

Seven-year-old Near, being the respectful, reliable, tight-lipped boy everyone could count on for keeping quiet, had not pressed for further details. As a token of appreciation, A had voluntarily offered him her own given name: Alexandra. The knowledge that A was able to trust him with such information lit a proud torch within him, and Near had immediately dubbed his best friend as _Ax_.

No one else had known where the nickname had come from, but it stuck and spread like wildfire. It hadn't been long before B started calling himself Beyond Birthday, to fit in with the rest of the orphans. Up until that point, Alternative and Backup had always considered themselves "above" typical nicknames, preferring to stick with their official aliases and letters instead.

_Names aren't just words. Kira is living proof of that. _

Near eyed the completed model of the Tokyo Tower sitting in front of him. One slender finger was poised over its fake antenna, prepared to knock the whole thing over. Above him, Commander Rester knitted his brow, clearly surprised by his superior's uncharacteristic faraway expression.

_All of our real names are ingrained and embedded in Allie's subconscious._

The young genius closed his eyes, his heart racing.

_Could they be enough to stimulate a recall? And if so, would the benefits outweigh the fallout? _

Near frowned, irked by the untimely emergence of his conscience.

If Allie's lost memories were ever to return, there was a chance that she would undergo a personality change and revert back to the last mental condition she had been in six years ago: clinically depressed and suicidal.

However, there was also the slim possibility that she would be able to regain some grasp of her mental and physical training she had received at Wammy's, while maintaining her current emotional state at the same time. With their combined powers, Light Yagami and X-Kira – _Teru Mikami?_ – wouldn't stand a chance against L's four heirs.

_And Kira's reign will finally be over. _

Mello's wary voice suddenly broke through the headquarters' speakers, thus dispersing the SPK leader's tumultuous thoughts.

_"What's going on?" _

"I was just telling Allie that we need to keep an eye on Teru Mikami over the next few days," Near lied smoothly.

_"That's right. We'll need a tail or two. Matt and I would probably stand out too much, though." _

"_I'll be too busy tracing Takada's emails, anyway. I won't have time to play cloak and dagger."_ That, of course, was Matt.

"Don't worry," Near murmured into the mike. "Gevanni is good at stalking people."

With that, he finally prodded at the red paper structure. The Tokyo Tower replica crumbled to the ground, scattering its cut-out pieces across the tiled floor. He took a deep breath, ready to dismiss Rester from the room. Although Near trusted the man with his life, what was about to unfold was for his peers' ears only.

And that was when Misa Amane's phone call came.

* * *

The three of us were huddled apprehensively around my cell phone, which was lying innocently on the floor. The slurred voice that was currently blaring from it, however, was anything but innocent.

"…_my fiancé wants to meet you!" _

_Shit!_

"H-He wants to meet me?" I stuttered, alarmed. "I don't understand why he would –"

"_Yes, Misa told him all about you!" _

This was bad. If what Misa was saying was actually the truth, then I was in serious danger. But on the other hand, it would provide us with an excellent opportunity to spy on Light Yagami a bit more, this time up close and personal.

"Misa," I began evenly, "what exactly did you tell him?"

"_Hehehe… just that you're..." _

A distinct _thud_ followed her unfinished sentence. Seconds ticked by, and an eerie, ominous silence descended not only on the other end of the line, but upon our entire suite as well.

"Uh, Misa? Misa, are you there?" I demanded anxiously.

As if to answer my question, there was a faint rustling noise, and then…

"_She's been incapacitated,"_ uttered a familiar baritone voice. "_This is Mogi speaking_."

"Mr. Mogi! What happened to Misa?"

"_She kind of... passed out. Ms. Robinson, what were you doing before Misa called you?" _

Alarm bells immediately went off in my head. _Why is he asking me such an intrusive question? _"Sleeping," I quickly replied. "It's only seven in the morning here."

Mogi coughed. _"No, it isn't."_

"Er...yes, it is. Why wouldn't it be?"

"_Because I know that you are not in Los Angeles. You are here, in Tokyo." _

Matt stifled a gasp, and Mello narrowed his eyes at the phone, as if daring the Japanese agent to prove his accusation.

"What are you talking about?" I exclaimed, feigning confusion.

"_Ms. Robinson, I saw your bag at the Narita Airport. Why are you in Japan? Please, be honest." _

_Oh no. _

This conversation was turning ugly, fast.

"Okay, Mr. Mogi. You've got me," I said slowly, frantically hoping for inspiration to strike. I glanced at the others for help, but all they did was shake their heads. So I crossed my fingers, and blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Uh...well, I really missed Misa-Misa! That's why I followed you guys. I hope you can understand!"

Beside me, Matt made a relieved, swiping motion across his forehead. Mello, however, still looked tense.

Mogi sounded doubtful. _"So you're stalking her? Is that it?"_

I let out a nervous chuckle. "I wouldn't call it stalking... that's a little extreme, don't you think? I'm just a really big fan..."

_"I'm her manager. I'm supposed to be cautious about things like overzealous fans."_

"Misa was the one who called me," I pointed out. "She and her fiancé were the ones who suggested getting together. And speaking of their invitation," I added politely, "I wouldn't want to disappoint them."

_"She was lying about that. Misa hasn't spoken to her fiancé since we arrived in Japan, not even once."_

My shoulders slumped in relief. "Oh," I sighed, pretending to sound disappointed. "Okay then. So I'm assuming the dinner's off?"

_"That's right. Misa wasn't thinking straight."_ Mogi paused. _"Listen... she's waking up. Please forget that this conversation ever happened, and if you know what's good for you, go home."_ And before I could even respond, the Japanese man hung up.

"Well," I said nervously, breaking the awkward silence, "that was a close one."

Mello's eyes glinted with worry. "Mogi may think of doing a background check on you, now that you've shown up again on his radar. But if Light ever finds out about you... or your adoption..."

"Then you and your family would be in danger," Matt finished for him.

_"I won't let that happen."_

Our three heads whipped around to face Matt's laptop. We had been so caught up in Misa's mess that we had almost forgotten about Near.

_"Commander Rester, do you mind leaving the room for a while? We are about to discuss something of a sensitive nature. Thank you. I'll call you back when we're done."_

"What's so important that even Rester can't listen in?" Mello asked curiously.

_"My name," _Near said simply. _"Since Mello has revealed his own to Allie, it's only fair that I show her the same courtesy."_

My jaw nearly hit the floor. "What? You don't have to do that!" I protested.

Mello looked absolutely stunned. "Courtesy? _Courtesy? _Since when have you been humble and noble, _Near_?" he sneered.

Matt, however, didn't even blink. He smiled and tapped a gloved finger against his chin. "Near's just trying to even things out. Isn't that right, mate?"

_"That's correct, Matt. I am freely offering all of you my name in hopes that it will strengthen our comradeship. That's what friends do, right? Trust each other completely?"_

"That won't be necessary," I objected. "I understand where you're coming from, but I already trust you, Near."

Near laughed softly. Almost… _menacingly_. _"That's Nate River to you." _

"Nate River? Ha!" Mello barked out. "The funny thing is that we can't actually prove that, now, can we?"

"How rude!" Matt scolded.

_"You'll just have to take my word for it."_

"I believe you…" I mumbled, suddenly feeling very peculiar. I ran a hand through my shortened hair. For some strange reason, the idea of growing it back out like I had planned seemed foreign to me.

"Allie, are you okay?"

I looked up to see Mello gazing concernedly at me.

"Yeah," I forced out. "Um, so… thanks for telling us… uh, Near."

_Nate River... _

"I guess it's my turn then," Matt piped up. He pushed his goggles up into his dark, reddening hair and stuck out both his hands, one for me and the other for Mello.

Mello's mouth twitched slightly. "Are you serious? This is just plain silly."

"Dead serious. Now, let's shake on it."

"Oh, come on," Mello groaned before grasping his best friend's outstretched hand.

Matt winked at me when I took his hand without complaint. "The name's Jeevas. Mail Jeevas," he declared in a very Bond-like manner. His jade-green eyes sparkled with merriment.

"Huh. Interesting. Funky."

_"It suits you, Matt."_

_Mail Jeevas..._

I didn't say anything.

_Mihael. _

_Nate. _

_Mail... _

Hearing their names had struck a chord deep within me, as if something had awaken. A beast, stirring yet still sleeping behind that bricked wall, that iron curtain...

_Keehl. _

_River. _

_Jeevas... _

The beast perked up, and my brain pounded steadily but quickly, desperately trying to pump out the dread worming and creeping its way into my cranium.

_Mihael Keehl. _

_Nate River. _

_Mail Jeevas... _

My chest tightened as my breathing became shallower and shallower.

_Mello, do you know anything about my real parents?_ My own voice sounded like a distant echo.

_No, I'm sorry. All I know is that you were handpicked by L himself at the age of five. Before that, you were at an ordinary orphanage._ Mello sounded oddly far away as well, as if he had been speaking through a metal pipe.

_No, wait... _

_This conversation took place over two weeks ago._

_What's happening to me?_

Disjointed thoughts and images flashed through my subconscious, and the murky past was instantly swept aside by a flood of blinding colors. An electric-like current pulsed through my skull, into my brain and came pouring out my eye sockets...

_What's happening to me?_

My grip on Matt's oversized glove loosened as my vision faded in, then out, then...

_What's happening to me?_

...away.

* * *

**A/N: Yes, that's right. It's another cliffhanger! Hahaha (sorry)! But I'm sure a lot of you can guess what will happen next. **

**Special shout out**: to MaskedAngel18, who was first to review the last chapter! I really appreciate your enthusiasm :) You rock my socks!

_Thanks also to all you other great readers, and to those who have recently reviewed: akatsukifan, Aly, AnimeGirlZoe, annee loves sasusaku, broken neon star, C. Holywell-Black, Dai Uzimaki, Dr. Who's There, Escaping Dreams, Kira the Wolf, MafiaGirl14, MasaJeevas, MaskedAngel18, mima1216, moonfleur, Ovalord of da Empia of cookies, -patterns-at-dusk-, RWolfe94, Saya Hikari Uchiha, ShadowedSerenity, Shy Rose24, TopGearGirl, Usagi323, VennaKitty, and xYourDearlyBeloved! _

**Thanks so much for reading! I really, really appreciate it. Also, we have just passed the 10,000-hits milestone! OMGXLJXHDJDIAA! ^^**

**Reviews are loved as much as Mello adores his chocolate :D **


	45. Once Upon a Time

**A/N: ****Thanks so much for the great feedback last chapter! ****I loved ****all of your**** reactions ****and stuff! **

**Disclaimer: I don't Death Note, just the OCs (:**

**Note: Heads up for British lingo in this chapter, which is also the second longest one so far. **

* * *

**Chapter 45: Once Upon a Time**

* * *

_Run, Alexandra, run!_

The blood-red rays of the setting sun flashed across my vision, blinding me temporarily. I silently chided myself for leaving my sunglasses at home and immediately swerved to change direction, almost skidding on the grass as I did so.

"You're not getting away this time!"

I could hear his labored breaths and eager footsteps behind me as I sprinted as fast as I possibly could, throwing the occasional glance over my shoulder. But no matter how hard I pumped my little stubby legs, the distance between me and my pursuer grew smaller and smaller by the second. Swiftly kicking out my heels, I lunged forward, pouring on an extra burst of speed.

But it was too late.

_"Gotcha!" _

I was instantly lifted up into the air by my armpits and tossed high like a stuffed doll. Squealing in defeat, I landed happily and safely against my father's sweat-drenched chest. I prodded at the damp cloth of his shirt with glee.

"Can we play another round? Please?"

"Sorry, honey. It's getting pretty late. I have a new project to work on with Mum."

"Oh!" I eagerly rubbed my hands together, my mouth already watering at the prospect of taste testing the delicacies that made _Sunny and Elliot's Catering Services: The Best of London! _an unmatched household name. "What are you making this time, Daddy?"

"Cornish pasties," he answered, setting me back down on the ground and gently nudging me in the general direction of the house. We began to plod our way through the vast, unrestrained field that was our backyard.

I glanced up at him, noting the tired lines creasing his pale face. "And how much are you getting paid?" I asked innocently, gears turning in my head as I spoke. I was hoping we would finally be able to afford a telly. I was running out of stories to read and toys to play with, and I had already memorized my parents' personal cookbook from cover to cover. The leather-bound pages, containing top secret recipes passed down through generations, were now dog-eared beyond use – not that it really mattered. All three of us knew its contents off by heart.

Still, it was one of our family's greatest treasures. Behind each exotic recipe was a tragedy, an adventure, a triumph, a love story. According to my parents, it was a beloved diary to them as much it was a specialized cookbook. I had been fascinated by it ever since I could start reading, but my interest had eventually waned about the same time I discovered I could rattle off every single secret ingredient like the alphabet, including their respective translations.

"We're not getting paid this time, darling."

I was shocked. "What? Why not?"

My father looked amused. His eyes, specked with green and copper, twinkled down at me. "It's for charity," he explained patiently.

"Ohhh," I mumbled. Then I quickly squashed my disappointment, feeling extremely ashamed of myself. "That's so sweet. I'm sure they'll appreciate that," I added sincerely.

"_In_ _everything, treat others as you would want them to treat you_," he quipped, wriggling his eyebrows at me. "That's our motto, Alexandra. Don't you ever forget that."

I sighed. "I won't, Daddy. You say it every day."

We quietly slipped our way through the back door, remembering just in time to remove our shoes before entering. A pleasant buttery scent wafted toward us, filling my inquisitive nostrils. My gut rumbled loudly, and I prodded at my plump belly in embarrassment.

My mother, decked from head to toe in flour-splattered denim, swept into the room carrying a handful of egg shells. "I thought I heard something," she said jokingly, kissing us both on our foreheads. She looked utterly exhausted but exhilarated at the same time. Her jet-black hair was pulled back into a traditional bun, and the loose tendrils clung prettily to the sides of her face.

"It was me!" I blurted out, giggling. "What's for supper?"

"You'll have to do with leftovers again, I'm afraid," my mother apologized, frowning slightly at my father. "Daddy and I have to bring down our first batch to the shelters right away."

"Oh, that's okay," I replied cheerfully, making a beeline straight for the fridge.

My mother coughed. "Young lady, where do you think you're going?"

I halted in my tracks, whirling around guiltily. "Oops. Sorry, Mum." Chastised, I dashed for the sink to tend to the mud and grime that covered my hands.

As I lathered on the soap, my mother and father began to quietly discuss their latest endeavor. My ears perked up at once when I caught the words _renowned _and _wealthy_, and I tuned out the sound of the rushing tap water, focusing instead on the poorly hushed-up conversation behind me.

"…so really, it's a win-win situation. It'll be good for our reputation," my father murmured.

"I know it is, Elliot, but we're already a day behind with our other orders. We're going to have to stay up all night to finish the crêpes for the Smiths' wedding tomorrow."

My father sighed. "Don't worry, Sunny. We're no strangers to all-nighters."

As soon as I switched off the water, they both fell silent. I stared at them curiously before demanding, "Who's renowned and wealthy?"

* * *

"What the hell? Earth to Allie. Wake up!"

I waved my hands in front of Allie's face in an attempt to produce a reaction, but to no avail. Allie's eyelids had fluttered shut. She was completely silent, her body swaying on the spot where she was seated.

"Did she just... did she just _fall asleep_ on us?" Matt asked incredulously, leaning in for a better look. "I had no idea we were that boring."

"We had a pretty rough day," I muttered, glancing at the clock that hung just above the flat panel television. It was nearly midnight, and I was starting to feel pretty drained myself. Part of me wanted to crawl into bed and forget about our visit with the Yagami women, but another part of me wanted to stay up all night long and interrogate Matt about what he knew regarding Near and his past friendship with Allie. Though, he would probably laugh right in my face if I did.

"_It was productive," _Near's voice droned through the speakers of Matt's chrome laptop.

"You've made progress," I admitted.

"_No, _we've _made progress," _Near corrected me in a disturbingly offhand tone._ "By the way, what happened to Allie?"_

I cast a sidelong glance at the younger girl, whose chin had now dropped to her chest and whose face was shrouded by a small, dark curtain of hair. "She fell asleep," I replied. I got to my feet and gestured for Matt to do the same. "Near, I think we're done here."

"_Yes, let's call it a night." _

"Good night, Nate!" Matt called out, but the other boy had already terminated the link. Near's insignia vanished from the computer screen, and the frozen image of Teru Mikami filled the monitor once more.

_Good night, Nate…_

I felt the familiar burn of jealousy take hostage of my insides, and I glowered at my best friend. "Don't get too accustomed with using our real names. If they ever leaked out, someh –"

Matt cut me off in mid-sentence. "I know, I know. I'm not an idiot. None of us are. The only way that could ever happen is... well..."

For a tense moment, we just stood there, hovering over a sleeping Allie. I eyed my best friend with astonishment, which rapidly turned into annoyance. "What are you implying?"

"Gosh, Mello. For a genius, you sure are slow."

"Don't be such a smart ass," I retorted. "If you're thinking what I'm thinking, then why would you voluntarily give it out to her? Is _Mail Jeevas_ even your real name, for that matter?"

Matt held my gaze steadily, crossing his arms defensively. "Of course it's my real name. I'm not a liar."

I let my infuriated glare linger on him for a little longer. "So what you're saying is that you told Allie your real name, even though you don't completely trust her yet. Why?"

A pained expression streaked across the other boy's features so quickly, I wouldn't have caught it if I had blinked. "Because it was the right thing to do. Besides..." Matt coughed awkwardly. "I'm not even talking about her, anyway."

"Stop contradicting yourself."

"I'm not. You're just assuming things." When I didn't respond, he sighed and uncrossed his arms. "Fine, I'll explain everything to you as soon as we get Allie tucked into bed." Matt tilted his head at said girl. "Let's go."

"I can take care of her myself." With that, I bent down and carefully gathered Allie's limp body into my arms, cradling her as I lifted her off the carpet. Ignoring Matt's suddenly scrutinizing look, I maneuvered around him and made my way toward the bedroom.

_I've never seen Matt like this before. What's got him so agitated? _

Once we were inside, I gently laid Allie down on one of the futons. She looked so peaceful, so serene. So childlike. For a moment, I let all my worries about Near and Matt slide away into the background. A half-smile, half-grimace curled my lips as I unwittingly recalled how I had brutally dumped her on the floor of Matt's apartment during our first encounter weeks ago. Snatching up one of the hotel's absurdly luxurious silk comforters and tossing it over Allie's sleeping form, my mind flitted back to Mogi's suspicion-laced warning to her over the phone.

_"If you know what's good for you, go home."_

_She _is_ home_, I thought protectively. _She's with me. She's with us. Mogi, don't get in the way._

I swallowed the panic that was threatening to rise in my throat. Chances that Mogi would actually perform a background check on the Robinson family were logically slim to none. The Japanese detective's resources were extremely limited. The man had no choice but to be glued to Misa's side every minute of the day, especially now that they were back in Japan and in frequent contact with the people at the NHN studio. And even if he did somehow manage to uncover the Robinsons' link to Quillsh Wammy...

Mogi would never tell Light.

My shoulders sagged with relief as I realized the implications of his direct confrontation with Allie. I crouched down and examined the Eurasian girl's face. Underneath the recessed lights of the bedroom, her normally fair skin appeared to be sun-kissed.

"If Mogi really wanted to expose you, he would've already done so," I informed the slumbering teenager, brushing her dark bangs aside. I caressed her warm forehead, ever so lightly, half-wishing that I knew an appropriate lullaby to hum to her. "It's been a week, and he chose to personally warn you instead of disclosing your identity to anyone else. There's nothing to worry about, so you can sleep tight now."

Allie's nostrils flared in response, as if she had either heard me or smelled something fragrant.

_Sweet dreams. _

I gave her one last, expectant look before making my quiet departure. With a heavy heart, I returned to the main room where Matt was reclining languidly in one of the ivory leather chairs. He straightened as soon as I seated myself as well. "So, what's up?" I inquired in a low voice.

Matt shoved his goggles back down, effectively shielding himself from my penetrating gaze behind the thick plastic lens. "First, I need to ask you something important. It's about Allie."

"Yeah? What about her?"

Matt shifted uncomfortably. "If something happens to her, are you and Near going to, you know...?"

"What do you mean by _something_?" I asked sharply.

Matt didn't answer. Instead, he reached into his vest pocket and drew out his Pac-Man lighter, flicking it open. He brought it up to the side of his face, where its stark white counterpart was nestled behind his ear. The moment the cigarette tip glowed ember, Matt plucked it free from his hair and jammed it between his lips.

"I asked you a question."

"You know exactly what I mean, Mello," he said testily. I merely shook my head, and he conceded. "If A and B hadn't died, things never would have escalated the way it did between you and Near."

I could feel my eyebrows disappear into my hairline. _So_ _that's __what this is about?_ "That was five years ago, Matt. I was just a kid."

"Just because you turned twenty today doesn't mean you're not a kid anymore." I opened my mouth to argue, but Matt held up a hand and barreled on. "You may be a man by society's standards, but to me, you're still a child. A child who isn't sure what he wants."

_What the hell? Where is this coming from?_

I gaped at him, hating the dull ache in my chest. "On the contrary," I said defensively. "I know _exactly _what I want. I always have. You, of all people, should know that."

"What I know is that back at Wammy's, the only thing you ever cared about was beating Near," Matt continued evenly. "And after A's suicide, your so-called rivalry with him spiraled into hatred. You changed, he changed, we _all _did! But you... _you_ were the worst."

My heart hammered against my ribcage as I absorbed the ugly, harsh truth spewing from my best friend's mouth. "I'm aware of that," I snapped, afraid that I would lose my temper and wake up the entire hotel. "However, it –"

But once again, Matt interrupted me. "Tell me something, Mello."

I stiffened at the sound of his edgy tone. "What?"

"When you were still with the Mafia, did killing Near ever cross your mind?"

* * *

"Well?" I prompted.

My father chuckled and ruffled my hair affectionately. "Aren't you a tad too young to be caring about money and fame?"

I pouted at him and gave him my best puppy eyes. "Age is irrelevant. So, who is it? Can I get their autograph?"

"_Irrelevant?_" my father echoed, looking at me strangely. "You read too much."

Smiling to myself, I poked my head into the open fridge and selected a dish of cold pasta. "That wouldn't be a problem if we had telly," I complained good-naturedly. "So, who is it? Go on!"

My mother laughed. "Oh, Alexandra. I don't think you'd be interested. He's sixty-four years old!"

"Hmm," I mused thoughtfully. Then it hit me. "Is it Michael Caine?" I practically shrieked, almost dropping my plate.

My father snickered, shaking his head in amusement. "Good heavens, no! He's a very famous inventor, honey. His name is Quillsh Wammy," he explained. "He's the one who founded the St. Mark's across town, and he was just in the news last month for opening two brand new orphanages down in Paris."

I stared at him blankly. Then I shrugged. "Nope, doesn't ring a bell. Anyway, if he's so rich and stuff, why isn't he paying for the pasties?"

"Well..." My mother paused, struggling to find the right words. "It's called goodwill. By helping people out, others will respect you. And as a bonus, that usually means new clients and more business in the future. It's like self-promotion."

"I see..."

Suddenly, a shrill alarm resounded through the air. My mother gave my father a meaningful look before they disappeared into the other kitchen, which was specially reserved for _Sunny and Elliot's Catering Services: The Best of London! _and specifically off limits to me. Apparently, I was too young to use the oven.

A minute later, my mother rematerialized with a large tray of baked, stuffed, golden-brown shells, while my father carried a tall stack of brightly-colored boxes. My nostrils twitched.

"Mmm, they smell so good!"

"I'm sorry, dear. They're all for the other children."

My parents began to load them into the boxes while I wistfully looked on. When the last pasty was spirited away and the last ribbon finally tied, I let out a defeated sigh and followed my mother and father outside to their delivery van. I shivered slightly; the blood-red sun had finally dipped beneath the horizon, and the first stars were starting to pop up against the velvety purple evening sky. The summer was most definitely coming to an end. I was _not _looking forward to going back to school, for more reasons than one.

"We'll be back in an hour or two. Will you be alright, sweetheart?"

I nodded. "No opening the door to strangers, let the answering machine pick up, and stay out of the kitchen," I recited obediently.

"Good girl."

My father slowly pulled out of the driveway, checking the mirrors at least ten times. I giggled, waving wildly at the departing van. My mother's slender arm poked through the passenger window and fluttered her fingers. Then I trotted back inside, locking the door behind me.

I ate at the window, counting the number of cars that whizzed by. When I was finished, I washed the plate and resumed my spot in front of the window, idly humming to myself. It was a foreign tune my mother used to sing to me whenever I came home from school crying, humiliated and utterly confused by the older students' taunts of _fatty _and _bloody half-breed_.

"Shh," my mother would murmur, rocking me gently. "You're beautiful. Don't let anyone tell you differently."

By the fifth incident, I had managed to tune it all out. It had taken a lot of willpower to keep my head held high in the classroom. Outside on the playground, though, was a different story. I had learned very quickly where the best hiding places were – behind the rubbish skip, in the sandpit, underneath the slides – and I would remain there until the break bell saved me.

I didn't even realize I had drifted off into a daydream – where I was yelling at my classmates in a courtroom – until a dull thumping sound yanked me back to reality. I blinked, rubbing my temples tiredly.

My eyes grew wide as saucers when I saw blue and red flashes flood the blackened lawn. Two cars had pulled up the driveway, both of them emblazoned with azure and marigold square patterns.

_What are the police doing here?_

Somehow, my body knew what was happening before my brain did. I dragged myself to the door, the door I had promised to keep shut, and threw it wide open.

A massive man with a walrus moustache looked down at me, holding out his badge for me to inspect. I touched the cold metal.

"Is this the Shire residence?" His voice was a deep, earth-shattering rumble to my five-year-old ears.

I nodded wordlessly.

I was swiftly ushered out of the house, shoeless and empty-handed, and was swept into the chaotic storm of wailing sirens, sweat and darkness. A blanket was thrown over me, as if _I _were the one on the way to the morgue, and as the world came crashing down around me, I opened my mouth and unleashed an anguished howl.

* * *

"The only people I have ever killed were other criminals!" I snarled, avoiding Matt's question. "I killed whoever got in my way."

Matt raised a brow. "Uh, Mello..."

"Don't!" I breathed, clenching my fists. "Don't compare me to Kira. I'm nothing like him. I am who I am today to avenge L and Watari, and all the other innocent people Kira killed or destroyed!"

"That may be true," Matt said slowly, "but what I want to know is whether or not you ever planned to kill Near. When you had possession of the notebook during that one month, did you ever wish you had his name?"

My mouth flapped open uselessly as I carefully mulled over the question he was posing.

Had I ever wanted to end the life of the very person who pushed me to my limits, the very boy who was always one step ahead of me no matter what I did? Had I ever wanted to kill the very one who I knew sought out my photo and hid it before Kira could find it, the very boy who loved L as much as I did? Sure, I had pulled my gun on my rival a few times before. But the truth was that I had never, _ever_, actually considered pulling the trigger.

I could never shoot a brother, let alone murder him in cold blood.

"Matt," I finally said, "even if I had his name, I wouldn't have done it."

A broad smile, not unlike that of the Cheshire Cat, spread across the other boy's face.

"_Only_, and only because," I insisted, raising my voice, "I would've spent the rest of my life bored and regretting it."

"That's good enough for me," Matt drawled. His voice softened. "Mels, promise me something. Promise me you'll be more careful this time around. Promise you won't mess things up again. Promise you won't... betray us."

I scowled deeply. So all along, Matt had been worried that _I _was the weak link here? "I would never."

Matt offered me his cigarette. "I'm sorry I ever doubted you."

"Don't sweat it." I rolled my eyes and batted at the cancer stick, which landed on the carpet with a sickening _hiss_.

"That was a waste of a perfectly good –"

Matt never got to finish his sentiment, because just then, a terrible scream pierced the air.

And it was coming from the next room.

"Fuck!" I swore, bolting out of my armchair. Matt was hot on my heels as I burst into the bedroom, where Allie was writhing in the bed sheets. We were on her in a flash; Matt pried the duvet off the squirming girl, and I grabbed hold of her flailing wrists.

Allie snapped awake, relaxing almost immediately in my grasp. "M-Mello! Dad, my dad, I-I-I h-have his eyes," she blabbered incoherently.

My pulse quickened at the sight of her flushed, tear-streaked face. "I'm here. It's okay, you were just having a bad dream, Allie."

"No, I wasn't," she sobbed, digging her fingernails into my skin. "Mello, I saw my parents."

* * *

**A/N: Whew. I decided to go easy on the cliffhanger thing this time, lol D: Hope you enjoyed that 'little preview' though!**

**Special shout out**: to xYourDearlyBeloved, who was first to review the last chapter! You make my world go round, BABEEEHH!

_Thanks also to all you other great readers, and to those who have recently reviewed: akatsukifan, Aly, AnimeGirlZoe, annee loves sasusaku, C. Holywell-Black, Dai Uzimaki, Dr. Who's There, Escaping Dreams, jade, Kira the Wolf, MafiaGirl14, MasaJeevas, MaskedAngel18, mima1216, moonfleur, Ovalord of da Empia of cookies, -patterns-at-dusk-, Rijii, RWolfe94, Saya Hikari Uchiha, ShadowedSerenity, Shy Rose24, Usagi323, VennaKitty, xYourDearlyBeloved and yuukikuranXD! _

**Thanks so much for reading! Reviews are totally appreciated :D**


	46. Fighting Fire With Fire

**A/N: Woo, another looong chapter :D**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the OC version of A. **

**Note: This chapter contains dialogue excerpts from Volumes 9 and 11, as well as a cameo character from Volumes 2 and 12 who was not portrayed in the anime - Yamamoto, who joined the Task Force one year after the Kira case. Yamamoto first appeared as one of Light's high school friends (Page 185 of Volume 2).**

* * *

**Chapter 46: Fighting Fire With Fire**

* * *

Mogi did not believe in coincidences. In fact, it was his job _not _to.

The seasoned NPA detective was convinced that Alexandra Robinson, Misa's self-proclaimed number-one fan, was somehow connected to the man responsible for the death of the Deputy Director back in November.

_Mello._

Just a month ago, Mogi would have given anything to hunt down the criminal mastermind and arrest him and any subordinates with his own two hands. Unsurprisingly, it had taken Mogi a mere seven days to investigate all of the licensed and non-licensed doctors not only in America, but in the entire world. Considering the disastrous showdown with Mello at the Mafia base, the surviving Task Force members had been certain that there was no way Mello would have escaped the explosion unscathed.

No one else would have been able to do it but Mogi. He had the resources, the stamina, and the motivation to perform such an impressive but tedious assignment, despite the lack of results. The death of his greatest mentor had spurred in him the desire to capture Mello as strongly as Soichiro's son did. Mogi and the Task Force were behind Light, one hundred percent, perfectly loyal and blindingly trusting. Together, they would capture and bring justice to both Mello and Kira.

Of course, it had all changed the moment Mello cunningly delivered Mogi straight to Near's doorstep.

After the initial confusion, Mogi had refused to let himself be swayed by the SPK leader's persistent prodding and futile attempts to question him. He had stayed silent, as per Light's expectations.

"_You've met the former L, the real L, right? Is there anybody in the current team who L suspected even in the slightest of being Kira? Even a yes or no would suffice."_

Still, nothing. Not even a peep, a nod, nor a shake of his head. As Light had warned him beforehand, Near was untrustworthy. He had previously let Mello "escape" from the SPK's custody; it was obvious that Near and Mello were working together to a certain extent. Cooperating with Near was out of the question.

That was when Mello, who had been listening in on their conversation through Mogi's cell phone, stepped in to deliver the fatal, table-turning blow.

"_If he doesn't say anything, I think we can assume that Kira is in the Japanese Task Force. There's no reason for him not to cooperate to get Kira. Even if it's not by the notebook, he's still being controlled." _But Mello hadn't stopped there. _"I actually had a bunch of guys test the notebook a number of ways, but nobody who wrote the names down died after thirteen days."_

Near had pounced on that immediately. _"The writer will not die even if that person does not write anything down for more than thirteen days. Is there anything that strikes you as odd about this, Mogi? Even the slightest thing will do."_

Hook, line and sinker.

Both Mello and Near had sounded so smug, so sure of themselves, that the Task Force could not have possibly ignored the pair's insinuations, even if they tried. But what really sealed the deal was the untimely appearance of Demegawa's rioting horde of Kira supporters, who had emerged out of nowhere to smoke out the SPK.

"_All this happened right after Mr. Mogi showed up. There are only a handful of people who could have known that he was coming here. There are other organizations in other countries that are also trying to capture Kira, so I find it hard to believe that this is a mere coincidence. You are Kira."_

Theory, or fact?

"_You did it with the hopes of killing all the SPK members and Mogi. And once we all die, you're going to kill everybody else on the Japanese Task Force. That's your plan."_

Whichever it was, it had changed everything.

Aizawa had been the first to defect, then Ide. Mogi had been too focused on keeping watch over Misa Amane to give it any more thought. But now that he was once again faced with the same issue, he knew it was time to make his move. Who was the real enemy here? Near or Light? Mello or Kira?

Deep down, he already knew the answer.

When the limousine finally pulled up to a stop in front of the Shibuya Tobu Hotel, Misa staggered out of the car like an animated rag doll, leaning against the well-built man for support. Mogi caught her, slipping his other hand into her open purse as he did so, and guided the drunken woman up to her room. A glass of water, two crushed sleeping pills and several minutes later, Mogi was home free.

Hurrying back down into the slush-covered street, he hailed the nearest cab in sight. If anyone had been tailing him, they would have been sorely disappointed. Mogi's destination was not the Task Force's secret headquarters, but the National Police Agency's public office.

* * *

One minute I was sitting in a police car; the next, I was back in the hotel suite, openly weeping like the five-year-old I had been just a moment ago. The uniformed strangers who had escorted me into the car had suddenly been replaced by my familiar but equally worried-looking friends.

"I saw my parents, I really saw them!" I cried hysterically, as if repeating the words would bring them back from the dead.

Mello's mouth was a slash of grim pity. He uncoiled his fingers from my wrists and brought them to my face, using his knuckles to swipe at my tears. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Matt examining me with an expression of keen interest.

"Are you sure? What else did you see?"

"Matt!" Mello snapped. "That's none of our business."

I tuned out their voices, focusing instead on the ones that, by some miracle, still lingered in my whirling mess of a mind. The flashbacks triggered by both my breakup with Rick and seeing Near's puzzles a few weeks ago had been _nothing _compared to this. _Don't let go, _I silently willed myself, shaking from the effort to preserve the nightmarish dream. _Don't let it slip away like all the others!_

I couldn't even recall falling asleep in the first place. Had it even been a dream? The last thing I remembered was blacking out right after Matt had told me and Mello his real name.

Yet, how long had it been since I could remember my dreams? It had been so many months, years even, that I had lost count. No, that wasn't true. I had _never _been able to retain any of them, not since I began my new life with the Robinsons. It was always the same old, recurring cycle of shadowy smudged colors, unrecognizable voices that weaved in and out without holding any weight, then the eventual, final desperation and hollowness that filled me whenever I returned to consciousness. How many times had I awaken from what were surely the most vivid of dreams, only to have them fade into phantoms? How many times had I gone to bed praying that I would see them once again?

_Finally…_

I ran the blazing memory through my mind once, twice, over and over, like a movie reel, mentally flipping through the crystal-clear images of my mother, my father… I had _her_ lips, and I had _his_ eyes.

A fresh wave of sobs wracked my being, and I had to fight to catch my breath. For the first time in living memory, I could remember my parents, their faces, and our old home in England, down to the very last detail…

I balled my fists in frustration. Damn it, I wanted to throttle something. _Whoa, where did that come from? _I shoved the violent thought out of my head and took a few deep, cleansing breaths. "Why did you guys have to wake me up?" I demanded.

Mello looked extremely shocked, but he didn't withdraw his hand from my face as I had expected him to. "You were screaming," he pointed out. "We thought you were having a nightmare!"

"Well, I was _this _close to finding out how they died!" I shrilled, realizing a second too late how morbid that sounded.

His jaw dropped, and Matt squeaked with displeasure from the other side of the bed.

"Not that I want to know the gruesome details," I whispered, curling myself up into a tight ball. I wanted to go back to sleep and see my parents' faces again. "I just... I just want to know the truth. From the start, I was told they'd been killed in a car accident. My whole life has been based on that lie, and I need to know the truth. Otherwise, I'll never be at peace with their deaths. I can't live like this anymore, not when I can remember them now."

Both boys were quiet and stock-still. The tension in the room was so thick, so electric, that I was afraid to say anything else. Had I gone too far? After all, it wasn't as though _they_ were unfamiliar with orphanhood.

Mello was the first to break the silence. "Yes, you can."

That caught me off guard. "What… how would you know?"

"Because you were willing to leave everything behind to find a ghost and a murderer. That's how," Mello said dryly. "You're strong when you need to be. And we all need you to stay strong, until we can expose that son of a bitch for who he really is."

I propped myself up and leaned against the headboard. Now I was looking at him at eye level. "What if that never happens? What if we just end up running around in circles until someone dies? I don't want to die without finding out what happened to my parents!"

"I have an idea," Matt piped up, and I swiveled my head to stare at the goggled teen. "If it's that important to you, why don't you head back to England for a while? Maybe you'll dig something up about your parents. What were their names?"

"Sunny and Elliot." My heart fluttered when their names left my mouth for the first time. "No, I can't… I can't do that. I can't leave you guys," I muttered, wincing at the blatant insincerity in my own voice.

"We appreciate your concern," Mello began, placing his hands comfortingly on my shoulders. "But if you're unable to concentrate, you'll only be hurting yourself by staying here with us."

"I can concentrate!" I huffed, plopping myself back down onto the futon. "But I'll have to sleep on it. I'm not thinking straight right now, I'm too tired." _And I want to see their faces again._

Mello nodded. "You can make your decision in the morning. Let's just get some rest now. We deserve it."

And with that, Matt hopped off to the other bed, mumbling _good night_ and _sweet dreams_, while Mello settled himself into the loveseat next to mine. With a snap of his fingers, the lamps in the room flickered off. My chest ached at the sight of Mello's curled up silhouette on the chair, and I reached out where I thought would be his hand. Our fingertips touched, and I closed my eyes, content to surrender myself to the alluring waves of exhaustion.

Little did I know that all thoughts of visiting England would be vanquished the next morning.

* * *

"Yo, Mogi-san! It's been ages, my old friend!"

"Good evening, Yamamoto," Mogi greeted his former colleague. "I hope they're paying you overtime…"

The bespectacled young man chuckled, shaking his head vigorously. "Nah, I've actually been transferred to night shifts. I prefer working late. So, how's Matsuda-san doing? Heck, isn't today his birthday?"

Mogi allowed himself a little smile. He had nearly forgotten. But then again, no one had properly celebrated their birthday for the last six years – not since the appearance of Kira – with the exception of Misa Amane. "Indeed, it is. And Matsuda is fine. How about yourself?"

"Honestly?" Yamamoto hissed, his eyes darting around as if people were eavesdropping on them. In reality, there was no one else in sight. It was shortly after midnight, and the NPA's Intelligence and Information Bureau floor was empty, save for the unlikely duo. "I'm bored out of my freaking mind!"

"Well then, today is your lucky day." Mogi placed Misa's vibrant pink cell phone on Yamamoto's desk. "I need your help with something. It's for a case I'm currently working on. No questions asked?"

The spiky-haired man stared at the pink mobile curiously. "Whose phone is that? You're not wearing any gloves."

"Oh... uh, well... I thought I said no questions asked!"

A sly expression overtook the younger agent's features. "Is this really for work? Or is this unofficial, off-the-record kind of stuff?"

"It's for work," Mogi said firmly, "but it's also off-the-record. Can I count on you to keep quiet?"

"Depends what's in it for me."

Mogi sighed. "I'll put in a good word for you. You know, like a recommendation."

Yamamoto's eyes gleamed with approval. "My lips are sealed. So, how may I be of service?"

"I need you to trace a number for me," Mogi explained. "I also need you to download all of its information, including the contact and recent call lists, any voicemails and text messages, and if it's possible, I'd like to track down the location of the phone in question. It's an American model, but it uses the GSM network."

"If it's _possible_?" Yamamoto scoffed, snatching up Misa's phone. "Hacking into GSM is for amateurs. It's one of the most easily exploited global communications systems out there!" He flipped it open and promptly accessed the recent call list. There were fifteen entries on the screen, and fourteen of them were labeled "Light Yagami" in kanji. The newest one, however, showed the American's name written in katakana. "Al-lie Rob-in-son?"

Mogi nodded, and Yamamoto went straight to work. He watched as the other man slid open the battery compartment, gingerly removing both the power unit and the SIM card with his nails. After inserting the chip into a reader, Yamamoto plugged the USB drive into his computer and pulled up a generic data loader onto the screen, quickly entering Allie's ten-digit number into the input box. The technician's fingers flew skillfully across the keyboard, and before long, Yamamoto leaned back in his chair, satisfied. "Take a look."

The detective complied, and was treated with the sight of two separate windows. The first showed a linear map outlining the locations of the nearest cell phone towers, and overlapping the aerial-like view were connected, pulsing red arrows indicating the path of the signals transmitted and received between the two girls' phones. The second displayed a spreadsheet compilation of Allie Robinson's contacts and saved messages.

"You're in luck. The other phone is still switched on," Yamamoto informed him. "Also, it seems like your American is in the vicinity. Actually, she's within a fifteen-kilometer radius."

Mogi's pulse quickened. "Yes, I know," he said vaguely. He was too busy gaping at the sent-items list. One text message, dated the twenty-eighth of November, stood out from everything else.

_**5 mins, Mels.**_

_Mels... Mello...? _His gut told him that he had hit the jackpot. "Could you print out the spreadsheet for me, please?"

After hastily exchanging thank-yous and promises to meet up for a drink over the New Year, Mogi left the NPA building, clutching a slim stack of papers in his trembling hands. He raced down the sidewalk, alerting the taxi that sat patiently parked at the street corner. Despite the chilly night air, bullets of sweat rolled down the large man's back. His heart was pounding that fast. If he hadn't been certain about Allie's identity before, he was now.

Mogi silently berated himself. _How could I have missed it to begin with?_

At first, he had overlooked the fact that Miss Robinson just happened to match the physical description of the female that had been spotted boarding a plane to New York alongside a scar-faced blond male: Eurasian, five foot one and ninety-five to a hundred pounds. When Light had confronted Near about the sighting at LAX that night, it turned out that it really had been Mello. The identity of the girl, however, had remained a mystery.

Enter Misa's new friend, one day later.

Mogi had initially dismissed the coincidence simply because he had no reason to suspect a regular high school student that Misa originally crossed paths with in an innocent attempt to relieve her boredom. Los Angeles was a big place, and it had been Misa herself who stumbled across the play-directing opportunity at LAC High. Allie had not popped out of nowhere; she just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

_Or perhaps... the right place at the right time?_

Mogi had been too preoccupied with spying on Misa to properly conduct a thorough background check on Allie Robinson. That was partly the reason that he had held back on telling Aizawa about the other girl's existence for so long. However, he had done enough research to know the basics about her background. Allie was not the offspring of her legal guardians, who were both Caucasian. Mogi had just assumed that she was one of the parents' daughters from a previous marriage. Now, he knew better.

The teenager was almost certainly adopted.

And if she really was associating with three of Wammy's House descendants – L's successors – she most likely had some history with the institution as well. Why else would she recklessly throw away her high-school career just to _stalk_ a relatively small-time celebrity like Misa Amane? It made no sense at all, unless the girl was mentally ill, which didn't seem to be the case. Therefore, it had to be a lie, meaning that Mogi's theory was correct. Allie was one of Mello's two accomplices, and she was here in Japan to – according to Takada's broadcast last night – apprehend Kira.

Which brought Mogi back to his original dilemma.

"Chief Yagami is probably rolling over in his grave right now," the ever-loyal man mumbled to himself. "But things have changed... Near still suspects that Light is Kira, and so do Aizawa and Ide. And quite frankly, I'm beginning to think so as well..."

Aizawa was currently putting his neck on the line by exchanging information with Near. Hence, if what Near said was true, if Light _really _was Kira, every single one of them was in mortal danger – and Mogi already knew firsthand what it was like to have assassination knocking at his door.

Contacting Mello was risky, and cooperating with him was downright suicidal. But this way, Mogi could also keep an eye out on Mello in case the rogue criminal genius did anything that would jeopardize the investigation and endanger innocent lives. To extend a hand in peace to the boy who once nearly killed him was unorthodox, unthinkable, rebellious, _impossible_ – but it was better than playing puppet to Light's manipulations and deceit.

Wasn't it?

Was this what L had felt like six years ago, before reaching out to Wedy and Aiber for help?

_No, L had always been unconventional; he always fought fire with fire._

When Mogi arrived at the hotel, he was relieved to find that Misa was still out cold. He returned the borrowed phone to its rightful place inside the idol's jewel-accented clutch before spending the rest of the night poring over his newly gained information, all the while contemplating the ethical implications of his next - _and possibly fatal -_ move.

* * *

"_No offense, Near… but I prefer to work alone."_

Near frowned into the webcam. "Gevanni, Rester agrees with me on this. A single American man following Mikami's every move is bound to eventually catch his attention, especially if he's as sharp as I think he is." Near paused for breath. "More importantly, two sets of eyes are better than one. If Allie accompanies you in tracking Mikami until we have gathered enough evidence against X-Kira, then we'll be that much closer to capturing L-Kira."

"_But why the girl?" _Gevanni's voice dripped with disdain. Obviously, he was uncomfortable with the idea of operating with an amateur.

"Because there's no one else who can do it," Near said bluntly, tugging at a loose curl. Sometimes, Gevanni was too proud for his own good. "I can't risk letting him see Rester, Lidner's tied up with Takada, Mello and Matt aren't inconspicuous enough, and Allie can pass as your teenage daughter."

The SPK leader hid a smirk when he saw Gevanni's reaction on the monitors. The man's ice-blue eyes had widened considerably, and his cheeks were tinged red. _"She'll only get in the way. I'm sorry, Near, but I've never had to work with a partner before."_

Near couldn't restrain himself any longer. "This isn't about you, Gevanni," he drawled softly.

"_Huh? Don't tell me this is one of your little experiments."_

Gevanni caught on fast. Which, Near reflected, was one of the reasons the young man had been selected over a group of older agents. "Not quite. I'd rather call it… testing the waters."

* * *

**A/N: Mwaha. I wonder if anyone saw that one coming… well, hope you enjoyed that! ;)**

**Special shout out**: to Kira the Wolf, who was first to review the last chapter! You're such a fabulous reader! Seriously!

**Another special mention: **to mima1216, who was the 400th reviewer. Like, HOLY CRAP! That's so awesome ;-;

_Thanks also to all you other great readers, and to those who have recently reviewed: akatsukifan, Aly, AnimeGirlZoe, annee loves sasusaku, C. Holywell-Black, Dai Uzimaki, Dr. Who's There, Escaping Dreams, jade, jad3000, Kira the Wolf, MafiaGirl14, MasaJeevas, MaskedAngel18, mima1216, moonfleur, Ovalord of da Empia of cookies, -patterns-at-dusk-, Rijii, RWolfe94, Saya Hikari Uchiha, ShadowedSerenity, Usagi323, VennaKitty, xYourDearlyBeloved and yuukikuranXD! _

**Thanks so much for reading, I love you guys! And of course, reviews are extremely appreciated :D**


	47. Poison

**A/N: Happy October, everyone! One of the greatest months ever. Soooo, is anyone else as excited for Halloween as I am? *throws virtual cupcakes and candies and chocolates* **

**Disclaimer: This is just a fan fic (:**

**Note: This chapter contains references to Death Note: Another Note, the Los Angeles BB Murder Cases.**

* * *

**Chapter 47: Poison**

* * *

_Taptaptap._

The moment the dull knocking resounded from the suite door, my eyes snapped wide open. One bleary glance at the slivers of grey light slanting through the drawn window shades told me that dawn had barely even broken. _Who could that possibly be?_

I quietly unfurled myself from the loveseat, taking great pains not to disturb Allie as I removed my hand from hers; she had fallen asleep clutching my fingers. Not that I minded.

I slithered out of the bedroom and down the corridor, grabbing yesterday's newspaper along the way. When I reached the door, I rolled the pages into a makeshift telescope and stuck it against the peephole. My eyes narrowed into hostile slits as I took in the slightly ruffled appearance of the man on the other side of the door.

_Gevanni. _

My hand hovered above the doorknob. Obviously, he was here on Near's orders. However, it irked me that Near had neglected to mention anything about this yesterday, especially since we had been so... _compliant_... with one another lately.

I quickly made up my mind when I saw that Gevanni had raised his hand once more. I unlocked the door, jerked it open and hissed, "Which part of _Do Not Disturb_ do you not understand?" Nevertheless, I stepped back to allow him through and shut the door before anyone could walk by and peek in.

The older man brushed past me, not bothering to disguise the clear resentment in his facial expression. The hard chips of ice that were his eyes raked over the room, studying the equipment strewn across the carpet like mere toys. Gevanni's pinched lips curled up in scorn. "I understood it perfectly. It's just that I don't give a damn," he replied coldly. "Where is Alexandra?"

"She's resting," I stated just as coolly. "What do you want with her?"

"As a matter of fact, nothing," Gevanni huffed, inspecting his fingernails with an air of withering haughtiness. "But Near has suggested that she should accompany me in tailing Mikami."

I nearly exploded. "_What? _Why can't you do it yourself?_" _

"Hey, I'm not too happy about it either," Gevanni snapped. "But Near has a good point. Two people are less conspicuous than one."

"Then why isn't he sending Rester with you?"

"Near doesn't want to risk the Commander's life. And he thinks that Alexandra can help me with my cover," Gevanni explained, looking somewhat baleful.

"What would that be?" I demanded, suspicion creeping into the edges of my mind.

"American tourists. A father and daughter spending the holidays in Japan." Gevanni folded his arms, obviously embarrassed by the situation. "The sooner we get started, the sooner we'll be able to prove that Mikami is X-Kira. He lives in Kyoto, which is about a six hour drive from here. We won't be returning to Tokyo until Near is satisfied."

"That is out of the question," I said harshly.

Gevanni blinked at me, shocked, before smirking knowingly. "You underestimate her? Or perhaps, you don't trust her to work alone with me?"

"Of course not," I sneered, my hackles rising. "Watch your mouth, Mr. _Loud. _I spared your life twice before. Don't make me regret it."

Gevanni blanched. "It's only for the sake of the investigation that I can stand talking to you, let alone be in the same room as you," he seethed, his deep scowl mirroring my own. "If it weren't for Near, _I _would've shot you down the first time I laid eyes on you."

I bared my teeth at him. "You and all the other wannabes that dared to cross me."

Someone coughed, the sudden noise shattering the mounting tension. "Ahem. Excuse me..."

We swiveled our heads toward the bedroom doorway. Matt was casually leaning against the frame, wide-eyed with curiosity. He gave our unexpected guest a quick once-over. "I'm Matt. You must be Agent Gevanni," he said politely. When the older man nodded, Matt grinned widely. "Welcome to our humble headquarters. Shall I wake Allie up, then?"

"Matt!" I exclaimed reproachfully. "You can't possibly be okay with sending her to Kyoto. It… it's too far away!"

He chuckled. "Just last night, you were okay with her heading back to England."

I blushed, and then growled to cover it up. "Shut up. I won't allow it."

Gevanni rolled his eyes. "It's not your decision to make, anyway," he retorted. "Go wake her up."

* * *

_Tap! Tap! Tap!_

The police officer gave the signal, and the white, slightly bloodied sheets were peeled back. The walls spun, my vision flashed, and I smacked my palms against the window in horror.

For the second time that night, I screamed.

The high-pitched wail that resonated throughout the building was loud enough to wake the countless dead stored within its chambers. I retched, emptying the hot liquid contents of my stomach all over the pristine tiled floor. My throat, which was already sore from the shriek that had just erupted from my lungs, was now burning horribly from the acidic bile. Panting wetly, I wiped my mouth. The officer's hand was heavy on my shoulder, holding me back from running into the room that contained the corpses of my parents.

"Yes, that's them," I sobbed, clawing desperately at the glass window.

There were four of them in total, two of whom were my mother and father, two of whom were complete strangers. Four bodies, four humans who had been breathing and living and enjoying life just three hours ago. The very two people who had given me life alongside the very two who had taken it away...

The policeman nodded at the medical examiner inside the showing room, and my parents' pale, bloodless – _lifeless_ – faces disappeared beneath the plastic sheets that veiled the rest of their bodies. I watched as the doctor scribbled something down onto her clipboard.

_Their death certificates_, I realized with a sickening pang, and another sob wracked my being.

"I'm sorry for putting you through this, but you appeared to be the sole next of kin," the officer said gently, kneeling down to look me in the eye. When tears continued to trickle down my cheeks, he dug through his pockets and handed me a handkerchief. "Here, you can keep this." I took it wordlessly, noting the initials embroidered into the soft fabric: _J.P._

A short burst of static emitted from the transceiver strapped to the officer's hip. _"The others will be there shortly. Out."_

J.P. groaned and stood up. "Well, it looks like we're not needed here anymore, Miss Shire. Let's get you down to the station, alright?" His dark walrus moustache wobbled with every word.

"What about them?" I whimpered, pointing a trembling hand at the other dead couple. "They haven't been identified yet."

The policeman's voice was grimmer than before. "Their foster son is on his way to do that."

Something in his grave tone sent an unpleasant chill down my spine. "Foster son," I repeated faintly, feeling the cold, harsh reality sink in.

_I'm an orphan now, too... an orphan..._

I was never going to see my parents again.

"I... I'm not ready to leave yet," I stammered, pressing my forehead against the glass. The cold surface was soothing against my flushed skin. I fought yet another wave of tears as I studied the pair of wrapped lumps that were my mother and father.

_What's going to happen to me now?_

I hadn't realized that I said that out loud until J.P. sighed again. "Since you don't have any living relatives, we'll have to see if there are any spots available for you at St. Mark's," he said sympathetically.

Panic threatened to choke me. "But I already have a home!" I cried out, despite knowing how silly that sounded. "I can cook my own meals. I can take care of myself, I promise. Please, _please_…"

J.P. shook his head sadly. "That's not how it works, sweetheart."

"I am _so _sorry for your loss, Miss."

I flinched slightly at the arrival of the new voice; it was young, precise and decidedly masculine. _The foster son_, I guessed. I hurriedly wiped away my tears and twisted around to face him.

I immediately did a double-take.

The first thing that caught me off guard was how presentable and well-dressed he was. Like his accent, his clothing was flawless. The son was wearing a crisp black suit that looked as though it had been ironed minutes ago, and his face appeared to be freshly scrubbed and free of any signs of grieving._ How odd. _

Secondly, he was Asian, unlike his late foster parents. That shouldn't have surprised me, but it did. Other than my mother, I knew very few English-speaking Asians living in the area. But the strangest thing of all was that the boy's skin, which should've been ridden with pubescent acne, was so smooth and pale that it was practically luminescent.

If I hadn't known better, I would've mistaken the youth for a life-sized doll, or a vampire.

One that looked rather pleased with himself.

The boy, however, ignored my probing gaze and maneuvered around the puddle of vomit I had left on the floor, stepping up to the window beside me. A ghost of a smile flickered across his features as he absorbed the scene inside the other room, brushing aside his inky bangs.

"Thank you," I responded hollowly. "And yours, too."

No, I was lying. _I hope they're in Hell right now._ I balled my hands into furious fists. What had caused the boy's foster parents to rocket down the evening roads like madmen, not caring where or how fast they were driving? What was the reason they purposely rammed into my parents' delivery van head-on and died with laughter on their faces?

Whatever it was, I _wasn't _sorry that they were dead.

"Don't be," the older boy murmured, much to my surprise. "Their time was up," he added under his breath.

_Huh? Is that supposed to make me feel better?_

He then turned to face the two police officers. "Yes, that's them. But they deserved what they got. I'm ninety-five percent certain that their tox screens will show lethal levels of ecstasy in their systems." _In one ear, and out the other._ I had no idea what he was saying. Tox screens? Ecstasy? "They were nothing but bottom-feeding scum," he added indifferently, as if he was merely discussing the weather.

The men gaped at him in disbelief.

"What do you mean?" I pressed, stunned by the venom dripping from his words. I couldn't understand how anyone could hate their own parents, biological or not. But at the same time, I felt a sick curiosity, an eager desire, to justify hating the people who took my parents' lives.

"Let me show you," the foster son said silkily. He pushed up the sleeves of his suit and thrust his slender wrists out at me and the two officers. "Addicts do crazy things when they can't get their fix – and even crazier things when they do."

I stared in confusion and shock at the ugly mottling of brown, green and purple decorating both of his forearms. "What's an addict?" I asked quickly.

The officer whom I had dubbed J.P. held up a beefy hand. "For heaven's sake, she's only five!"

The boy smiled, but it only made him look even more sinister. "I was only five when I was holed up with my first pair of junkies. I have your precious system to thank for that."

The other policeman winced and shot me a worried look. "In any case, it's not appropriate to discuss it here. Let's head down to the station."

The boy smirked and adjusted his cuffs; the bruises vanished from sight. "Sure, whatever."

As the two men marched us out of the mortuary – _funeral march_, I couldn't help thinking – the Asian youth sidled up next to me. "I really am sorry about your parents. I could see how much they meant to you."

I frowned. "They still do," I mumbled.

"Ah, my apologies." He sounded sincere, and for some reason, _guilty_. "My real father was killed in a mugging back in Japan. And my mother got hit by a train right after we moved here. They were the only ones who ever meant anything to me. No one can ever replace them, no matter how many times the system insists on doing so!" he said darkly. "It's an absolute outrage. I'm old enough and definitely intelligent enough to survive on my own. When will they ever learn?"

"The system?" I echoed, intrigued and scared at the same time. The foster care system? What was so bad about it?

A sudden wave of disgust washed over me at the thought of ending up with people like the ones who had killed my parents. _No, I won't let that happen!_

"You'll soon see for yourself – ah, I don't think I caught your name, Miss."

I hesitated, recalling my mother's last warning to me. _Don't talk to strangers. _But surely, this boy didn't count as a stranger anymore. "It's Alexandra."

He nodded slowly, as if satisfied. "Yes, like the Princess. Her Royal Highness," he replied softly, gazing down at me. The Japanese youth licked his lips.

I glanced away, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. "And what's yours?" I inquired, changing the subject.

A genuine smile lit up the older boy's face, and my attention was instantly drawn to his mouth and its rows of gleaming white teeth. I resisted the urge to shrink away.

"You can call me Rue, but I prefer _Ryuzaki_."

* * *

"Allie, wake up." I gently shook her shoulders.

She promptly rolled over and buried her face into the silk pillows. "Mello?" She sounded surprised. "What time is it?" she groaned, her voice muffled and slightly annoyed.

"Er, lunch time?" Matt fibbed.

Allie shot straight up. "Why didn't you…" She trailed off when she noticed the drawn shades. "The sun's not even up yet! Thanks a lot."

"Well, _someone_ is a little cranky this morning."

Allie was silent.

"You had another dream, didn't you?" I murmured, recognizing the hopeless, dark terror inside her eyes. They were the eyes of someone who had seen too much. Eyes that had seen death and had done nothing to stop it. "You saw your parents again?"

She nodded slowly, confirming my suspicions. I reached for her hand and squeezed it comfortingly. "Do you want to talk about it?" Fear and anxiety prickled at the base of my skull. _What the hell is triggering her memories? At this rate, she'll be too unstable to concentrate on Kira…_

"It was vehicular manslaughter," she said resignedly, "but both parties died. The people who killed my parents were high at the time."

"God," Matt breathed. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yeah, well, at least I know the truth now." Allie glanced at me. "I guess Mr. Wammy didn't lie to my parents after all," she sighed, managing a relieved smile.

"I guess not," I replied, relaxing slightly. She was taking it better than I had thought. "Do you still want to go to England then? The airports are busiest around Christmastime, so I'm sure you'll be able to blend in with the crowds."

She looked thoughtful. "Well, I'd like to visit their graves… sometime soon."

Translation: _Before I die._

"Wouldn't you rather go to Kyoto?" Gevanni sauntered into the room, startling everyone inside and dispelling the somber atmosphere.

Allie's eyes bulged, and we hastily broke apart. "Mr. Gevanni? What are you doing here?"

"Near sent me to ask you if you want to assist me in keeping surveillance on Teru Mikami," the man said snidely. "Although he already made it quite clear that he's expecting you to say yes."

I gritted my teeth. "That little... brat!"

"Chill, Mels."

"Why didn't he ask me yesterday?" Allie asked curiously, recovering from the unexpected appearance of the SPK agent. She climbed off the futon and began pacing around the bedroom. "I do want to go to England, though. But then again, if Near thinks this is more important…"

"England can wait," Gevanni interrupted.

Allie halted in her tracks. "Let me talk to Near. I'll do it, but I want to hear it from Near himself."

"He's tied up at the moment."

"With what?" I demanded incredulously.

Gevanni shrugged. "He told me not to bother him until I arrive in Kyoto. He said he was going to spend the day… _arranging things_… at Headquarters."

"Arranging things my ass," I muttered. "It's more likely that he's too chicken to overstep his boundaries in person." I immediately cringed, hoping that it didn't sound as bad as it did.

Gevanni let out a huge guffaw. "What boundaries?"

"Yeah, Mello." Allie sounded incredulous. "What _boundaries_?"

"Well," I spluttered, feeling my face heat up. "Us. Our boundaries. You're my… I mean… I don't want anything bad happening to you!"

Matt groaned and smacked a hand to his forehead.

"Mello, there's a fine line between being possessive and protective," Allie said sternly. "Gevanni, give me five minutes. I'll meet you downstairs."

The SPK agent all but fled out of the suite, eager to escape the drama.

"Listen, Allie…"

"No, Mello. _You _listen. I appreciate your concern and everything, but I can handle it." Allie stalked over to her duffel bag and began rummaging through its contents determinedly. I watched with dismay as she fished out one of her newly-purchased sweaters and yanked it on.

"That's not the point. You don't have to answer to Near's every beck and call," I argued, frustrated. "I only wanted to make sure that you're doing this for all the right reasons, and not because someone else told you to."

"Near's not pressuring me to do anything," Allie insisted, zipping up her bag and heaving it over her shoulder. "In fact, I still owe him for protecting my family back in L.A."

I was practically fuming from the ears. "You see? You shouldn't feel like you owe him anything. And real friends shouldn't expect anything in return for a good deed!"

Allie's expression softened. "And that's why I love you."

"Huh…?"

Her mouth crashed into mine without warning, and I could very vaguely hear Matt's yelp as he dashed out of the bedroom. She kissed me deeply, and her arms snaked around my neck to pull me even closer. I was too stunned to respond properly, so I just held onto Allie's waist as tightly as I could.

"What does that have to do with anything?" I whispered, finally breaking the kiss to nuzzle the side of her neck.

"I'm saying you're a better person than Near," Allie replied, stroking my chest. "But you can't deny that he's a good leader. I just want to do whatever I can to help him."

"Near can be awfully persuasive," I warned her.

"I know."

"He's almost as crafty as I am."

Allie arched a brow at me. "I find that hard to believe."

"Not to mention manipulative."

"_Mello_."

"I love you, too."

We walked out into the main room, where Matt was curled up on the floor, his nose buried into one of his handhelds. "Time to say goodbye," Allie said lightly, prodding the goggled gamer with her shoe.

"Goodbye," Matt droned obediently, swiftly glancing up from his DS. "Keep in touch. Don't get yourself killed."

"But if you do," I added wryly, "I'll strangle Near myself."

On her way out, Allie flashed me a thumbs-up.

* * *

**A/N: Hmm, I spy a certain jam-loving serial killer in his budding stage! Mwahaha. And to clarify things, his foster parents did not **_**purposely **_**overdose, if you know what I mean… o_o TILL NEXT TIME!**

**Special shout out**: to Epic Anime 77, who was first to review the last chapter! Thanks for that sweet review :P

_Thanks also to all you other great readers, and to those who have recently reviewed: akatsukifan, AnimeGirlZoe, annee loves sasusaku, C. Holywell-Black, Dai Uzimaki, Dr. Who's There, Epic Anime 77, jade, jad3000, Kira the Wolf, MafiaGirl14, MasaJeevas, MaskedAngel18, mima1216, moonfleur, Ovalord of da Empia of cookies, -patterns-at-dusk-, ravenstarwolf, Rijii, Saya Hikari Uchiha, shinigami777, Usagi323, xYourDearlyBeloved and yuukikuranXD! _

**Thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Reviews would be, well, super-duper :D **


	48. The Hunted

**A/N: To anybody else celebrating Thanksgiving this weekend, Happy Thanksgiving! And to others, Happy Columbus Day, and Happy belated 10/10/10! :D (it wouldn't have been belated if the site wasn't under maintenance last night!) **

**To clear up some of your suspicions and questions from last chapter, yes, Rue Ryuzaki was in fact originally one of Beyond Birthday's names. L never introduced himself with "Rue" – only "Ryuzaki". According to Ohba, the alias of "Ryuzaki" was given to L because of a previous murderer L had captured, who went by the name of Rue Ryuzaki. Beyond Birthday goes by Rue Ryuzaki in Another Note, so discounting the fact that Another Note is a spinoff and BB is basically an original, non-canon character, it stands to reason that for Nisioisin, BB was this "previous murderer" that L had captured.**

**Disclaimer: This is just a fan fic (: **

**Note: Heads up for a time lapse near the end! **

* * *

**Chapter 48: The Hunted**

* * *

Snow was falling, cameras were flashing, models were twirling around in fur-trimmed attire, and Mogi was sweating. Anyone who was watching him would've attributed the man's incessant hand-wringing, damp forehead and reddened cheeks to the female-loaded spectacle that was unfolding before them.

They would've been mistaken.

_Why haven't I heard from Light yet?_

Surely Light's rendezvous with Takada was over by now. Perhaps he had dismissed Misa's drunken stunt as a harmless attempt to ensnare him on a date with her – or maybe Light had taken matters into his own hands, and was planning to trace Misa's past calls as Mogi had done just last night. In any case, it was a loose end that needed tying up. Through the phone-sharing system that the second L had developed for the team, Aizawa, Ide and Matsuda would also have been able to access the voicemail that Misa had left on Light's cell.

_But why haven't they asked me about it either?_

As if on cue, one of Misa's mobiles began to ring. The overly-anxious man almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of the obnoxious jingle blasting out of its speaker. _Could it be…?_

The caller ID confirmed it.

"Good afternoon, this is Misa-Misa's manager, Kanichi Moji! How may I help you?" Mogi practically bellowed into the phone, in case anyone around him was eavesdropping. In reality, he had nothing to worry about. The crowd of cheering fans and hawk-eyed critics were too busy fawning over the parade of modestly-dressed models strutting up the catwalk in sync with the pounding techno music.

"_Mogi? Where is Misa?" _

"She's getting changed," Mogi replied as cheerfully as he could. "Misa's participating in a fashion show today."

"_What? Since when?"_

"I booked it this morning. It was an impromptu, spur-of-the-moment kind of thing."

Earlier that day, Mogi had done some research, made several calls and successfully landed Misa a spot in a local fundraising show. The sponsors had been thrilled to receive a call from Misa Amane's manager, and Misa had been all too eager to guest star in their event. Not only did she enthusiastically agree to model some of the outfits, whose proceeds were going to a charity of the audience's choice, she also volunteered to close off the show with a complimentary vocal performance.

"_Good idea, Motchi! Yes, of course, Misa-Misa has to build up her image before her official comeback! Anything's better than all those boring meetings at NHN…"_

It just so _happened _that the event's shooting location was a public park only two minutes away from the famed Perin Hotel – which, according to the map that Yamamoto had printed out for him yesterday, was where Allie Robinson was apparently staying. Wherever she was, Mello and his other associate – _Matt _– were bound to be close by.

Coincidence? Not at all.

"_I see." _Light sounded disinterested. _"Anyway, Mogi, Misa left me a voicemail last night."_

"Yes, Light?" Mogi held his breath and waited for the inevitable.

There was a small sigh. _"Kiyomi deleted it before I could listen to the message."_

"Is that so?" The air whooshed out of the detective's lungs. "Well, it was unimportant."

"_I thought so. Please tell her not to call me while I am at work. It's very bothersome, and it's hindering my investigation of Miss Takada."_

_Good_. "I apologize. I will try my best to rein her in," Mogi promised, relaxing slightly.

Light hung up, and Mogi slipped Misa's phone back into his pocket, dropping it in next to his own cell. He patted his other pocket discreetly, satisfied with the long lump hidden inside. The large man then proceeded to maneuver his way through the throng of buzzing onlookers toward the backstage, which was actually a roped off grassy area underneath a large circus tent.

When Mogi reached the entrance, he flashed his VIP card and was instantly waved in. Misa Amane was sitting at her makeshift dresser, preening into the mirror. She was currently running her manicured fingers through her silky hair, teasing and fluffing the golden strands.

"You look lovely, Misa," Mogi greeted his principal.

The blonde idol beamed up at him. "The secret is in the gloss." She smacked her lips. "I'm on in five minutes!"

"Yes, that's right...good luck!"

Misa titled her head inquisitively and frowned at the red-faced, sweating man. "Motchi, you don't look so well. Are you sick?"

Mogi unbuttoned his suit and shrugged out of the jacket. "I'm feeling a bit under the weather," he replied honestly. "Misa, I need to…run a few errands…so I'll have to miss your performance. I'm so sorry. Do you mind?"

The young woman shook her head, visibly deflating. "Nah, go ahead! Misa's fine on her own…"

"Alright. I'm leaving our phones with you," Mogi informed her, indicating his blazer. _Not to mention my gun._ "Where should I put this?"

"No one's allowed in here except the VIPs, so Misa's station will be fine," she assured him, taking the suit from him and draping it over her chair.

Mogi apologized to her once more before dashing out of the backstage tent. He shivered in his shirt and tie as he jogged across the field in the direction of the Perin Hotel. He wasn't taking any chances. Mogi had purposely left his cell phone and jacket with Misa so that one: the Task Force wouldn't be able to track his movements, and two: it would allow Mello to trust him more quickly if he was easy to search and wasn't carrying any weapons.

_Or so I hope…_

The detective entered the hotel, grateful for the central heating, and approached the front desk with renewed vigor. What he was about to do would go against all of his training as a member of the National Police Agency, yet Aizawa had done the exact same by explicitly defecting to Near. To be a law-abiding officer now meant nothing if it involved supporting Kira. Aizawa and Mogi would merely be ensuring the mass murderer's downfall by supplying both of L's successors with the right ammunition.

It was now or never.

The woman smiled at him. "Welcome to the Perin. Minako Yamura, at your service!"

"I'm looking for a few acquaintances of mine, three Americans teenagers. They're expecting me."

The receptionist eyed him suspiciously. "Do you know what name they're registered under?"

Mogi pretended to think. "Unfortunately, no. They're most likely using a pseudonym. But here…" He threw caution to the wind and showed her the ID card hanging from his neck; on it were his own stage name and photo.

Minako Yamura's eyes widened in recognition. "You're Misa-Misa's manager," the celebrity-crazed woman breathed. "I saw you guys on NHN the other day. You're working alongside Lady Takada for the New Year show, isn't that right?"

"That's correct," Mogi confirmed. "Anyway, would you please let my colleagues know that I am here? I seem to have misplaced my pager."

The clerk clucked sympathetically before consulting her computer screen. "You must mean the Houses. They checked in last week, and they have a suite booked for the entire month. Hmm, are they famous over in America or something?"

Mogi's heart skipped a beat. "Something like that."

Minako's eyes gleamed, and she picked up the phone with a professional flick of her wrist. "Alright. Give me a minute, please."

The detective nodded.

"Good afternoon, Mr. House. I'm sorry to disturb you, but I have a message for the three of you from a Mr. Kanichi Moji...?" The woman paused, relief etched into her face. "Okay, I sure will. No problem. Good-bye!" Minako hung up and turned to Mogi. "They would like to meet you upstairs. They're in Suite 1212."

* * *

I dropped the phone back into its cradle, too conflicted to even move. All of my instincts screamed, _Run, Mello, run! _Yet, my feet were firmly planted on the carpet.

_What…how…why…?_

"Mogi could be here to arrest us," Matt said tersely, looking ready to flee the room. Instead, he pounced on his bag and tossed me a wool ski mask. "This could be a trap, Mello. We have to go!"

I caught it and yanked it over my head. "Alone?" I mused, wracking my brain for possible scenarios. "That can't be it. How the hell did he find us in the first place?"

The goggled boy suddenly groaned. "Shit! He must've traced Allie's phone through Amane's chip."

"That doesn't explain how he made the connection between the _three of us_," I growled, sinking into the nearest armchair to reload my gun. My hands and legs were shaking. "Nobody but Allie's family and the SPK know that she's associated with us in any way!"

"Maybe Near sent him to us, seeing as he already has Aizawa at _his_ disposal," Matt mused, backtracking.

A tentative knock came at the door.

I was on my feet in a flash. "Matt, back me up."

"Mello, _what –_!"

I wrenched the door open, and before the other man could even blink, I dragged him into the room and slammed the door shut, snapping the bolts back at lightning speed.

"Were you followed?" I demanded in Japanese, shoving the large detective against the wall. I promptly ran a gloved hand over his bulk; he appeared to be clean. "Take off your shoes!"

Mogi's dress shoes went flying across the room. Matt plucked them from the ground and inspected them closely. "They're clean."

"I'm by myself," Mogi gasped wildly, staring cross-eyed at the Beretta jammed into his forehead. The safety was on, but he didn't need to know that.

"Why are you here?"

"I w-want to h-help you…"

I recoiled in shock. However, I didn't lower my weapon. "You'd better not be lying!" I hissed, gesturing for Matt to check outside the window. "What if you're setting us up? I killed your Chief, after all!"

"Technically, _you _d-didn't…"

"Don't patronize me," I snarled, ignoring the lump that had unexpectedly formed in my throat. "Besides, what makes you think we need your help? The Japanese Task Force consists of nothing but sitting ducks, and for God's sake, Kira is in your midst!"

"I know s-something that the others don't, r-regarding the notebook that we're k-keeping at our headquarters," Mogi spluttered.

That caught my attention. "Like what?"

Mogi swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing furiously as he struggled to find the right words. "We're keeping it in a safe disguised as part of the wall. To access it, each of us must enter our PIN number. Mine is…mine is 62-324."

"That's wonderful," I said sarcastically. "Unless you have everyone else's numbers and are willing to hand them over, I don't see how your information is relevant."

"That's the thing. I _do _have everyone else's numbers."

The room was so quiet we could have heard a pin drop.

Matt materialized at my elbow, his eyes wide with curiosity. "Mr. Mogi, you're a hacker?"

"What? No! I just happened to be in the right place at the right time," Mogi explained quickly, looking uncomfortable. "The first L and Watari were the only ones who had access to all of the members' information, including our PIN numbers." Mogi grimaced, as if he was pained by a certain memory, and the rest of the words came pouring out of his mouth like a river. "When L and Watari died, Light Yagami was promoted to take on L's title – so naturally, he was in charge of restoring everyone's personal files. And I… I helped him recover the lost data that Watari had deleted."

"Interesting," I muttered, loosening my death grip on the Japanese man. "And you're willing to share that information with us?"

"It depends…" Mogi's dark eyes darted around the room in confusion. "Where is Miss Robinson?"

"That's none of your concern," I said in a low voice. "Speaking of which, how did you know to find us through her?"

"I saw Allie's texts."

"What…? Oh, _damn_. You're a resourceful man, Mogi." I stepped back and waved him off with my gun. "You may go now. I don't need to tell you that you're lucky to escape with your life."

"Huh? But I haven't told you anything yet!" Mogi looked absolutely astonished.

"On the contrary," I declared, smirking at him from behind my ski mask. _It looks like we've got ourselves another ally, then._ "We now know that Light has full access to the notebook hidden at your headquarters. He may think of switching it with a fake right underneath your men's noses. May I suggest increasing or changing the security surrounding the notebook?"

"A fake?" Mogi's eyes bulged with surprise. "Well, I suppose that's possible. But, uh, why are you not…?"

"To put it simply, I'm not interested in repossessing the notebook at the moment. As of now, it's not necessary."

"Wait."

Matt's voice rang out with authority, stopping me and Mogi in our tracks.

"The notebook at the Task Force's headquarters, it is or was Kira's personal notebook, correct?"

Mogi nodded slowly.

"Is there any chance you could take a look inside its pages?"

The detective's eyebrows practically disappeared into his hairline. "W-why?"

Matt's face hardened. For a moment, I could see a flash of _Near _in his suddenly calculating gaze. A cold chill ran down my spine. "Kira supposedly killed Watari, also known as Quillsh Wammy, and L. Both of their names should be written in that notebook," he stated darkly.

"We never checked," Mogi whispered, as realization dawned on him. "But…but we've always assumed that it was the Shinigami that killed them…"

"Shinigami or not, a killer notebook would have been used. I would like to know whether the one you're currently in possession of is the same one, and if so, I would like you to tell us L's name."

My head swiveled toward Matt. _Why the sudden interest in his name…?_

As if to answer my unspoken question, Matt added, "It's just to satisfy my curiosity. I've always wondered who it was that we were all in line to succeed. It would mean a lot to me if you could do this for us, Mr. Mogi."

That made sense. "I agree."

"I'll see what I can do," the Japanese agent vowed quietly.

"One more thing. We'll probably have to switch hotels soon, so you can try to get in contact with us through Aizawa and Near," Matt continued.

Mogi's eyes widened at the mention of the SPK leader's name. "So you _are _working together…well, I'm not surprised."

"Don't tell anyone," I said warningly, returning my gun to its holster. "Tell me, Mogi. Why did you come here in the first place? Why us?"

"I wasn't sure whether or not you were working with Near," Mogi explained, sounding calmer now that my gun was out of sight. "I knew that Aizawa was already helping him, so I wanted to make sure that you were, well… on par with each other."

"Doesn't it bother you that you're conspiring with criminals? I'm wanted _internationally_."

Mogi set his jaw. "We're all criminals, now."

I had always thought that there was nothing left in this world that could surprise me. I thought I had seen everything by now – the best and worst that humanity had to offer.

Well, I was wrong.

Here was another person who was able to look past my misdeeds – another person who would risk everything to catch Kira.

_People can be so… unpredictable._

* * *

Teru Mikami was nothing if not a careful man.

Of course, one should not have expected anything less from God's chosen one – the _real_ chosen one, not the stand-in who enjoyed parading herself in front of the cameras. Mikami took quiet pride in his own work, a position that required not only his humility, but his unfaltering vigilance as well.

So it was no surprise when Mikami noticed _them_ right away.

There were two foreigners sitting on a bench right outside of his office building, a man and a teenage girl. Both of them appeared to be laughing, enjoying the light evening snowfall and admiring the sights of the ice-laced sakura trees. They were wearing matching hockey jackets, and a camera hung securely from the girl's neck. It was obvious that they were tourists.

_Cousins, perhaps?_ Mikami's red-washed vision told him that they did not share the same English surname.

He tucked away his glasses as he drew nearer to them. As a result of gaining the Shinigami Eyes, Mikami's eyesight had improved over threefold. He wore the thick-rimmed frames to keep up appearances; his previously strong lenses had been swapped with non-prescription ones.

The man could almost imagine Kira's voice whispering in his ear: _Be watchful, my servant._

Mikami's grip tightened around the handle of his briefcase. He certainly did not miss the way the American couple was blatantly ignoring him; they did not even spare him a single glance as he strode past them and into the corner coffee shop. Likewise, Mikami gave no indication that he had noticed them.

Their behavior – or lack thereof – was slightly disconcerting.

The 27-year-old prosecutor was not vain, but he was conscious enough of the attention he normally received from regular citizens and foreigners alike due to his striking appearance. He was extremely well-dressed, physically fit and had the kind of face that never failed to make a respectable first impression. The only logical explanations for the foreigner's complete disregard toward him were that they were either completely self-absorbed or were purposely avoiding catching his eye.

_But no matter. _Mikami mentally filed away the images of their names and faces. There were bigger, more urgent things at hand... such as Kiyomi Takada's latest text message, which had been innocently titled "_Thank you for the fan mail!"._

The rest of the contents, however, had been anything _but_ innocent.

Mikami swallowed a smile and ordered his usual soy latte.

This happened several times over the week. Mikami spotted the pair visiting his favorite library on Tuesday, paying their respects at the shrine on Wednesday, lingering outside of the sports gym at Dai Kyoto on Thursday, driving by his apartment on Friday, shopping at the local grocery store on Saturday, and again at the gym on Sunday.

By the time Monday rolled around again, Teru Mikami was _prepared._

It was nearly 10 P.M. when his shift ended. Mikami was currently making his way through Kyoto Station, briefcase in hand. Rush hour was over, and there were very few people in sight. God's chosen one threw a swift glance over his shoulder. Sure enough, the foreign couple he had been noticing for the past seven days was trailing behind him, seemingly oblivious to the prosecutor's presence.

_Oblivious, my ass…_

They were tailing him, and he was pretty sure he knew why.

* * *

**A/N: Spoiler alert! Next up? The infamous train scene! Dun dun dun. What exactly is Matt planning to do with L's name, and what has been going on at Allie's end? Find out next time :) **

**Shoutout**: to akatsukifan, who was first to review the last chapter! Your review made me smile, I'm happy my update made you happy. School sucks, indeed :P

_Thanks also to all you other AMAZING readers, and to those who have recently reviewed: akatsukifan, AnimeGirlZoe, annee loves sasusaku, Cereal of Labs, C. Holywell-Black, Dai Uzimaki, Dr. Who's There, Epic Anime 77, jade, jad3000, Kira the Wolf, MafiaGirl14, MasaJeevas, MaskedAngel18, mima1216, moonfleur, Ovalord of da Empia of cookies, -patterns-at-dusk-, __ravenstarwolf__, Rijii, Sailormecury117 (thanks for the two awesome reviews ^_^), Saya Hikari Uchiha, __**shinigami777**__ (sorry for last chapter's oversight!), Usagi323, xYourDearlyBeloved and yuukikuranXD! _

**Thanks so much for reading; reviews would be wonderful :D**


	49. Butterfly Effect

**A/N: Here's the latest chapter, and it's quite the beast as well. Enjoy ^_^ **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note, nor do I own Mulan. They belong to Ohba and Obata, and Disney (respectively)! Also, this contains excerpts from Volume 11.**

**Note: AMDA stands for The American Musical and Dramatic Academy.**

* * *

**Chapter 49: Butterfly Effect**

* * *

_"Near's counting on us, so don't screw this up."_

It had already been a week since Stephen Gevanni uttered those weighty words to me during our long drive to Kyoto, yet they continued to loom dauntingly overhead like my own personal storm clouds.

If being glued to Gevanni's side for the last seven days had taught me anything, it was that the older man was still disgruntled with the fact that I, a high-schooler with no proper training whatsoever, was being lumped in with him, a former FBI elitist of four years with a Master's degree in forensic psychology. At that, Gevanni had smiled smugly at my expression, correctly interpreting it as envy and admiration.

_"Yeah, that's right. I joined the Bureau right after I graduated. Impressive, huh?" _

Gevanni had wasted no time telling me that I would have to follow his lead at all times. Neither had he forgotten to remind me that we could die at any time. As if I weren't already aware of that.

But despite his initial complaints about me, Gevanni threw himself head-first into the mission.

The SPK agent had meticulously prepared for me a folder, complete with a list of rules that I had to follow and behaviors I had to refrain from, a detailed plan, and in the case of an emergency, self-defense tips. Not only did I re-read the portfolio at least ten times to familiarize myself with Gevanni's outlined strategies, I had to constantly rehearse my new persona with him so that we could get the feel of hanging out in public.

We had eventually come to a mutual agreement to tweak Near's original idea for us to act like a father-daughter duo. Not only did our ages differ by a mere decade, Gevanni was simply too embarrassed and uncomfortable with even the _idea_ of fatherhood. Also, if Near's theory was correct about Teru Mikami being X-Kira, who apparently had the Shinigami Eyes, that automatically meant that Mikami would be able to see that our last names weren't the same if he ever saw us together.

The only non-awkward option left for Gevanni was to act like how a stepbrother or a cousin would. There was no way would we be able to pass as good friends; Gevanni's body language would have given it away in a heartbeat. I couldn't help but notice that he always avoided standing or sitting too close to me, as if he were afraid of catching some kind of disease from the girl who had been, well, holed up with two delinquents in a hotel room for an entire week.

Gevanni was _that_ paranoid.

When we weren't rehearsing in private, we were constantly tailing Mikami – virtually twenty-four-seven. We practically lived in Gevanni's car; we only spent four to five hours a day at the motel room that he had booked for us, and that time was used for sleeping. Despite the dangerous nature of our activities, our days had become so routine, boring and mechanical that I felt as though I was operating on autopilot.

It didn't help that I was starting to feel edgier than usual.

I was already yearning to see my friends again, and there was an ever-growing ache in my chest reserved for Monica and John, Sunny and Elliot, and even that strange boy who had apparently attempted to befriend me over our parents' untimely deaths, Rue Ryuzaki.

I was homesick for my past.

The dreams had stopped the first night we arrived in Kyoto. No matter how much I tried visualizing my real parents before settling into bed, I could only draw blanks the following morning. It was as if fate was laughing at me, teasing me with fact that I was being left high and dry.

After the first few mind-numbing days with Gevanni, I had eventually come to the conclusion that being around Mello and Matt had ultimately triggered the flashbacks that were slowly piecing together my earliest memories. Other than Near, Mello and Matt were my only links to my childhood.

And I was missing them both terribly.

* * *

Near was in the middle of adding his new Lego ornaments to the headquarters' Christmas tree when Gevanni's call finally came.

A shrill beeping noise issued from Commander Rester's computer, and the man immediately yanked on his headset, simultaneously connecting his young superior to the toy microphone that was perched within the fir branches of the Christmas tree. Near obligingly glanced up from his decorating spree.

"Yes, Gevanni," Rester said anxiously.

_"It's about Mikami. Tailing him is strangely easy...it's not like he's making a move to go into hiding or anything, and he's been living at the same place for the past four years, leading an ordinary life. He's very active with his job as well..." _

Near's brows furrowed.

Gevanni took an audible deep breath, as if preparing himself to make an important statement. "_I understand that he is a Kira worshipper from the fact that he was on Kira's Kingdom, but I find it hard to believe that he could be X-Kira..."_

"Right, I see." Commander Rester gave Near a hesitant look. _So what now?_

"No, the chances of Mikami being X-Kira are high," Near objected, suppressing his rising annoyance. How dare Gevanni question his theory? "Please be careful, and don't try to enter his room or anything yet. Just keep your eye on him."

_"Okay…"_

"I'd like to speak to A now," Near continued, emphasizing Allie's former alias. "Give her the phone, please."

"_One moment."_

Near began twisting a strand of his hair around his index finger. Matt had been able to contact him privately once last week, while he was out replenishing Mello's stock of chocolates. His fellow successor confirmed that Allie had indeed started to recall snippets of her earliest days with her parents; furthermore, she did not appear to exhibit any extreme signs of depression or personality change – yet. She did, however, seemed to display more outward affection for Mello than usual.

Which was a good thing, of course.

If Mello ever discovered that they were purposely trying to bring _A _back, at least the hotheaded boy wouldn't be able to blame Near for attempting to steal her away from him. Admittedly, the notion had crossed the SPK leader's mind, but it was not worth losing Mello over. In fact, Mello was now worth more to him than Allie was. Alexandra had been cowardly. But to her credit, she was now trying to redeem herself.

Mello had always accused Near of being too apathetic, but what his former rival didn't know was that B's and A's deaths had affected him just as badly as it did everyone else. Just as B betrayed L by revolting against him, A had failed her best friend by taking her own life, leaving Near alone, cold and hollow, feeling very much like the first day he had arrived at Wammy's.

In due course, when the time was right, A's resurrection would possibly serve as a useful tool. But Mello, who could spot emotional manipulation a mile away, would most certainly put a crushing end to Near's intentions – that was, if the temperamental genius ever found out.

"_Hi, Near."_

"Allie," Near greeted her. "How are things with Gevanni?"

"_Honestly? Kind of boring. Nothing has happened yet."_

Near mentally _hmph-_ed and resumed his tree-decorating. "What's the closest you've been to Mikami?"

"_Uh, let me think. We saw him at the store on Saturday, when we were out buying groceries. He was in the lineup next to ours."_

"You'll need to get closer," Near declared. "We need definitive proof that he is X-Kira. Gevanni is starting to doubt me."

"_What are you suggesting, then?"_

"Does Mikami own a car?"

"_Yes, but he takes the train to and from work. From the information that Gevanni has gathered, Mikami is environmentally conscientious…"_

"I see," Near said simply.

"_If I'm thinking what you're thinking…"_

"Yes. Please do it."

Near terminated the link, satisfied. Ax had always had a knack for reading his mind, his motives. As a loyal friend, she had never once questioned him.

It appeared that Allie had not lost that ability…

…or weakness.

And that too would eventually be put to the test.

* * *

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Gevanni whispered, casting the interior of our carriage a furtive glance. It was practically empty, save for two men, both of whom were napping, and a pretty, raven-haired girl who looked to be around my age.

And of course, Teru Mikami.

I patted the spot next to me. I had seated myself directly opposite of the prosecutor, whose eyes were currently focused on the floor. Upon seeing his spaced-out expression, I felt a sense of déjà vu wash over me.

_How strange…why does his expression look so familiar? _

"We've been hiding in plain sight for an entire week now," I replied under my breath. "And this was Near's idea, not mine."

"It's way too dangerous," Gevanni mumbled back. Nonetheless, he sank into the velvety cushioned seat next to me, and a suffocating blanket of silence fell upon the car.

The train lurched as it began to rumble down the pitch-black tunnel.

I studied Mikami out of the corner of my eye. His shaggy black hair was obscuring most of his features, but as I had already known from our previous encounters, he was undeniably handsome. Yet, there was something wrong with the way he was holding himself. He had a relaxed stature, yet his face was like a frozen mask of pent-up tension.

"So," Gevanni said suddenly.

"What?"

Gevanni gave me a significant look. "Which schools have you applied to?"

I immediately understood. This was for Mikami's benefit. I gave Gevanni a friendly smile before answering, "UCLA and AMDA. Mom doesn't want me to move out. You know how she is."

In reality, Monica and John _were_ protective of me, but they had also encouraged me to apply to some of the Ivy League schools and a few places overseas, just as Amanda had done several years before. I had declined to do so, because at that time, I was terrified at the thought of being so far away from Sara, Rick and my adoptive parents. I had hated the idea of being independent and starting a new life all over again, especially since I got homesick quite easily.

_Just like right now. _

"Yeah, Auntie can be pretty overbearing sometimes," Gevanni responded loudly, his features scrunching up slightly as if he were in pain. I suppressed a smile. I knew for a fact that his discomfort was actually authentic. "Well, I hope you get in."

His words slammed into me like a ton of bricks.

"What's the date today?" I asked, feeling something akin to sadness tugging at my heartstrings. _Loss? Regret? _

Gevanni looked bewildered. "The twenty-first."

I nodded and then glanced away.

I had officially missed my chance to get into the Academy.

It had been over three months since the audition for _Mulan Modernized_, but I could still remember the blazing stage lights, Mr. Jones and his tiny clipboard, and the sea of hopeful faces like it was yesterday. Students, my fellow classmates, all of them vying for a piece of the spotlight like I was.

There had been three other senior girls who had made the final cut for the lead: Elisa, Tina and Beth. They had all been fantastic. Due to alphabetical ordering, I had been the last one to perform, which had worked out in my favor. I had been able to study Mr. Jones' reactions to each of the girls who had gone before me: he had grimaced at the first one's punk rendition of _Reflection_, raised his brows at the second's hip-hop routine, and smiled during the third's simple yet effective delivery of Mulan's fight with her father.

Modern play or not, Mr. Jones was old-fashioned at heart, and Beth had known this.

But so had I.

I had chosen to revamp the Disney classic's most infamous scene, _Short Hair_. It had been a huge risk because it involved handling props, which nobody else had used. Additionally, it featured no singing or dancing, unlike my audition for the first round. Just tearing up on cue and face-acting my heart out.

My chancy gamble had paid off. When Mr. Jones had announced his decision to assign the role of Mulan to me immediately after my heartfelt solo had ended, it had taken all of my self-restraint not to pounce on the scruffy old man.

_"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! You don't know how much this means to me, sir!"_

_"I presume you're applying to AMDA?"_

_"Yes, of course!"_

_"Well, I was thinking of extending an invitation to their talent scouts to come see some of the best and brightest that L.A. Coast High has to offer. Are you comfortable with these arrangements, Allie?"_

_"Do you even have to ask?"_

Had I not dropped everything to come to Japan, I would've been able to secure my future.

_But that's all in the past now. _This _is my priority, my duty…_

_My life._

_Chak-chak-chak!_

The train shuddered to a bone-jarring stop, jostling me out of my slightly mournful reverie. A few seconds later, the metal doors slid open to reveal a nearly empty platform.

Very nearly.

A bulbous head appeared, its beady eyes bloodshot and wild underneath a mop of oily black hair. Long, fat limbs quickly followed, slipping in just as the train bell signaled the final boarding call. I subconsciously made a disgusted face, and Gevanni's hand settled onto my shoulder in a protective grip.

"He's high," Gevanni muttered, not taking his clear gaze off the new arrival. "Allie, don't stare…"

The Japanese man moved sluggishly in his drug-induced stupor. When he walked past us, I almost gagged. I could smell the fumes of sour smoke oozing from the man's pores as he slowly waddled toward the other end of the car, where the pretty girl sat alone. The man stopped in front of her and suddenly smirked.

I froze. It was like watching a train wreck; I couldn't look away. _Surely, he wouldn't…?_

"_Yamete!"_

Three heads jerked up at the desperate plea – mine, Gevanni's and Mikami's. The two other men slept on, blissfully unaware of the commotion around them.

The girl whimpered and hugged herself tightly, trembling with fear. From where I was sitting, I could see the man leering down at his victim as he dragged a stubby finger up the girl's exposed thigh. I couldn't understand what he was saying, but from the way he was tugging at her skirt, it was obvious that he was teasing her for wearing the revealing piece of clothing.

My breath hitched. I could feel my pupils dilating as I continued to watch the thickset man tower over the much smaller girl. For some reason, he was beginning to blur around the edges…

"Gevanni," I whispered, turning to face my companion. But he was too engrossed in watching Mikami to notice that I was swaying on the spot.

I forced myself to follow Gevanni's gaze. Mikami had taken out a cell phone, and was aiming it in the stoned pervert's direction.

_What…?_

Mikami's fingers were a blur as they danced across the keypad. A second later, he stuffed the phone into his jacket and stuck his hand into his briefcase. He quickly but tenderly extracted a slim black notebook, along with an ornate fountain pen.

_Oh my God!_

Gevanni instantly bolted from the couch, dashing to the opposite end of the train. His hand was cupped to the side of his face, poorly disguising the phone that was hidden within his palm. His lips were moving frantically, and so were Mikami's, but…

I clapped my hands to my burning cheeks. The scene was melting away before my very eyes – Gevanni, Mikami, the sleeping men, the seats, the windows, the floor, the _train_ – until just the inebriated man and the girl were left behind.

Only they weren't exactly themselves anymore.

_No! Not here, not now!_

I wanted to gasp, but no sound escaped me.

"Just give me a reason," the man-suddenly-turned-teenager demanded, staring down at the teenager-suddenly-turned-prepubescent sitting in front of him.

"No, just stop it. Leave me alone." The young girl glared up at him from the chair, folding her pudgy arms across her chest.

My heart was thundering against my ribcage as the lifelike hallucinations filled my vision.

_He…_

_She…_

"I won't. See this?" The hauntingly pale boy produced a short dagger out of his pockets and began to twirl it between his fingers, like a pencil. The girl's hazel eyes – such _familiar _hazel eyes – warily tracked the weapon's movements. "I just sharpened it this morning."

A scream threatened to erupt from my throat. _That voice…that boy…_

That boy was Rue Ryuzaki.

_And that can only mean…_

"Put that away, please." Alternative's voice was soft, yet commanding.

Backup shook his head. "As soon as we discuss it properly like two normal, human beings."

"Normal? You're not normal at all," mini-me seethed. "I wouldn't even call you human."

_No, _I wanted to shout_, don't bait him!_

The older boy stiffened. "Take that back, Ax."

"You don't deserve to call me that, B!" Alternative growled, jumping off the chair. "Get out of my room, _now_."

"I don't _deserve_…?" Beyond Birthday's laugh was filled with mirth. He took a step forward. "I own you, A. You owe me your livelihood."

The girl bit her lip.

"You were mine the moment our parents died, mine to protect, and mine alone. Who was it that protected you from the snot-nosed prats at St. Mark's? _Me_. Who was it that tutored you until you were at the top of all your classes? _Me." _His eyes were like burning coals. "You wouldn't be here at Wammy's if I hadn't taught you everything I knew."

"I wouldn't be talking, _B_," Alternative spat out. "You cheated on the entrance exams. You used your…your _gift… _to solve those cases!"

"First you accuse me of not being human, yet now you're calling it a gift?"

"It's a curse," Alternative corrected herself.

"No, you were right to begin with. After all, knowledge is power, and we both know that your time is running out. You've marked it on that calendar of yours, I've seen it."

The small girl blanched.

Backup smiled. "Now, shall we make the most of it while it lasts?" He took another step forward, his spinning blade flashing in the dim lighting.

Alternative tried to brush past him, but the older boy had suddenly lashed out. The girl fell clutching her stomach, blood blossoming from the wound. "Beyond!"

"I tried reasoning with you," Backup said softly, nipping at the stained knife.

"God…please, B, I'm only eleven…"

"And I'm nineteen. I have needs, just like everyone else…"

With a shout, I leapt at the Japanese boy, finally breaking free of the invisible restraints that had been holding me immobile. But before I could knock him away, there was a metallic roar and the hazy scene cleared up. I blinked, dizzy with shock and confusion.

The train was back, and so were the sleeping men, Gevanni and the other girl. The only people missing were Mikami and the doped-up scoundrel.

"Allie, are you alright?" Gevanni was shaking me by the shoulders. "Come on, we have to go!"

"What?" I choked out. "Where? What's going on?"

"Don't look behind you, but…"

I instinctively looked back and screamed. A fleshy corpse was sprawled across the floor, lying practically at my heels.

"Shit!"

Gevanni dragged me out of the train, which had arrived at its final destination. Mikami was already weaving through the small crowds on the platform, strolling casually toward the escalators.

The SPK agent spoke rapidly into his phone. "A man who was harassing a girl on the same train as Mikami just fell to the ground. It was about half a minute after he wrote something down in the notebook, so..."

I shivered as Gevanni's words registered with me. _But that's not all that happened…_

"Wait a second," I interjected, motioning for the phone. My fingers were quivering, but who could blame me? I had just witnessed two attacks and a _death _in the span of one minute.

Gevanni reluctantly handed over his cell.

I could hear Commander Rester's voice in the background. _"Near, X-Kira is definitely Mikami."_

_"Yes," _Near breathed.

"Near, it's me," I said quickly. "There's something else that you should know. I don't know if it's important or not, though."

"_Every little detail matters. What is it?"_

"Mikami was fiddling with his cell phone before he pulled out the notebook," I explained, recalling how the man's eyes darted back and forth between his mobile and the girl's assailant – no, to the spot above his greasy head. "I think he was texting something."

There was dead silence.

Near finally spoke. _"Are you sure?"_

Gevanni snatched the phone from me and flashed me a weak but grateful smile. "Yes, Near. That's true, it just slipped my mind. I was too focused on the notebook…"

There was an extremely long pause. Late-night commuters continued to mill around us, people who had things to do, places to go, but at that moment, all that existed was Gevanni, his phone, and the sickening sensation worming through my intestines.

_Ryuzaki…was Backup…_

Apart from the actual knifing, one thing in particular stood out in my mind: Beyond Birthday's so-called gift.

What had they – or _we_ – been talking about?

Gevanni shifted beside me, looking extremely agitated. "Very well. I'll see what I can do. Yes, I'll let her know right away," the SPK agent murmured, snapping his phone shut.

* * *

**A/N: Mwaha, cliffhanger!...I think. Can anyone else hear the gears churning in Near's head? Stay tuned!**

**Special shout out**: to akatsukifan, who was first again to review the last chapter! Thanks for the greetings, lol. And I hope that train scene was 'twisted' enough for ya ;)

_Thanks also to all you other AMAZING readers, and to those who have recently reviewed: akatsukifan, AnimeGirlZoe, annee loves sasusaku, CagedAngel17, Cereal of Labs, C. Holywell-Black, Dai Uzimaki, Dr. Who's There, echo1317, Epic Anime 77, jade, jad3000, Kira the Wolf, MafiaGirl14, MasaJeevas, MaskedAngel18, Mello's Yellow Jell-o (I love your name, by the way!), mima1216, moonfleur, Ovalord of da Empia of cookies, -patterns-at-dusk-, __ravenstarwolf,__Rijii, Sailormecury117 (lol sorry, you were the sixth xD), Saya Hikari Uchiha, __shinigami777__, and Usagi323! Everyone else, you're in my heart, as always ^_^_

**Thanks so much for reading! Reviews will make the sky rain Cadbury chocolates :D**


	50. Blessings

**A/N: Thanks so much for the awesome feedback last chapter! You guys rock :) *throws Cadbury chocolates* **

**I apologize for the longer-than-usual wait; I was working on a one-shot earlier during the week. For anyone who's a fan of Wedy, be sure to check it out and let me know what you think ^_^**

**So we've reached the big five-oh! Time to make an announcement: we are now entering the fifth and final arc of Subtract, Add, Unite and Conquer! **

**Disclaimer: This is just a fan fic.**

**Note: Contains excerpts from Volume 11, and more Mogi goodness. This will be his most major appearance as a POV character. **

* * *

**Chapter 50: Blessings**

* * *

Hundreds of miles away and hours before Kyoto paramedics would receive an alert for another one of Kira's latest victims, a frigid war of words was being waged over a simple yet elegant dinner of stuffed salmon and red wine.

The battle hit its peak before dessert even arrived.

Mogi gave a start when Kiyomi Takada, flanked by a frazzled-looking Halle Lidner, suddenly emerged from the private restaurant that had been reserved for the entire night. The Japanese anchorwoman barely spared him a second glance, but the American's tawny eyes lingered on him for several seconds.

His confusion must have been written all over his face. _Where's Misa?_

The undercover SPK agent gave a subtle toss of her platinum-colored hair and marched toward the rest of Takada's waiting escorts and limousines. Mogi took the hint and switched his gaze over to the entrance of the small but renowned dining establishment.

Sure enough, his young charge came skipping out a minute later, swinging her fuzzy purse in one hand and a bottle of Muscat Bailey A in the other. She was positively glowing.

"Misa-Misa, are you okay?" Mogi exclaimed, instinctively extending his arms to catch the leather-clad woman in case she tripped.

The pigtailed blonde merely hiccupped and flounced out of his reach. "Of course, I am!" Misa drawled, regaining her balance and attempting to look dignified. "I won!"

Mogi mentally noted her usage of the first person. "You won?"

"Yeah, piece of cake." Misa glanced down at her bare fingers and grinned. "I told Kiyomi that I was going to announce my engagement at the New Year's concert. You should've seen her face!"

"Are you...are you sure that was a good idea?"

"Duh! That little girl needed to be put in her place!" Misa stuck her tongue out at the concerned detective and hopped into his idling car. "Now, let's go. This wife-to-be requires her beauty sleep."

And sleep she did. Once they arrived at their suite, Misa crashed so hard, he was certain that the bubbly starlet would be out cold until the next morning. The tell-tale sign was that she didn't mumble in her sleep when she was thoroughly inebriated. After confiscating the remainder of the alcohol, Mogi seized the opportunity to relieve himself of his unconscious principal.

It was time to pay a long-overdue visit to the Task Force's headquarters.

Aizawa, Ide and Matsuda were shocked when Mogi swept into Light Yagami's secluded apartment ten minutes later. If Light was surprised, he didn't show it.

"Mogi, long time no see! We haven't seen you in weeks! To what do we owe this pl – ?"

"Let him speak, Matsuda!" Aizawa barked.

Mogi nodded at Light, addressing him directly. "Misa needs to see you," he declared grimly.

Light frowned. "Why couldn't you tell me this over the phone? And why have you left Misa alone? Where is she now?"

"She's back at the Shibuya Tobu," Mogi told him truthfully. But what came out of his mouth next were purely lies. The detective had rehearsed them on his way to their headquarters. "Misa was tired of you not answering your phone, so she threatened to fire me if I refused to come get you myself. Sorry Light, but my hands were tied."

"That doesn't sound like Misa," Light said sharply. "She knows better than to bother me while I'm still busy with the case."

"Eh? Come on, Light. You're not seeing Takki again until tomorrow!" Matsuda interjected, poking the visibly annoyed brunette in the shoulder.

Mogi met Aizawa's eyes. _Trust me on this_, he silently implored the older man.

"Today's been a slow day," Aizawa pointed out. "You should go and set things straight with Amane once and for all, or else Mogi won't be able to concentrate on the job."

Mogi bobbed his head in agreement. "Matsuda, please come with us."

"Me?" Matsuda echoed, looking flustered. "What do you need me for?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Ide replied, arching a thin brow. "Someone has to accompany Light on the way back to headquarters. He's under surveillance, too, remember?"

"Okay, okay, fine…"

Light sighed, clearly frustrated with the fact that he was still under scrutiny. "I'll go get my jacket. Let's just get this over and done with."

"I'll meet you both downstairs," Mogi informed the two men. "I just need a moment to debrief the others on my investigation at NHN."

Light eyed him before turning away. "Go ahead. I have no problems with that. Come on, Matsuda."

Matsuda perked up. "Yeah, I guess it'll be great seeing Misa-Misa again!" he enthused, trailing after Light and grabbing his coat along the way.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, Mogi turned his attention to the vault cleverly camouflaged within the indoor brick paneling that lined the walls, determined to complete the task quickly before rousing Light's suspicions. This would probably be his only chance in the near future to drop by their headquarters.

"Ide, if you don't mind, could you please lock the door?"

The other man was taken aback, but he did was he was told. "Mogi, what is this about? And no, there are no cameras in here," Ide added swiftly.

"Alright…" Mogi paused and took a deep breath. "Shinigami Ryuk, if you don't mind, is it alright if you show yourself?"

"You're awfully polite for a human. And brave." The bulky, bruise-hued monstrosity shimmered into view at Mogi's words. Ryuk's eternally grinning face stared down at the three Task Force members when he finished floating out through the wall; Ide grimaced and Aizawa tensed up. They were so used to working without the Death God breathing down their necks that his grotesque appearance still disturbed them.

Mogi, on the other hand, barely even flinched. "You once mentioned that you wouldn't interfere with the Kira investigation anymore than you already have. Does this mean that you're not leaking information to Kira about us, Shinigami Ryuk?"

Rows of sharp ivory teeth gleamed down at him as the Shinigami chuckled. "Just call me Ryuk. I'm merely here for the entertainment; I'm not on either of your sides," he rasped.

"That's good enough for me," Mogi responded, stepping forward to unlatch the hidden safe.

The bricked door swung open to reveal a keypad inset into a second door, only this one was reinforced with black stainless steel. Mogi began entering the first of the six required sets of PIN numbers. The former chief's number was the first part of the password. On his death bed, Soichiro Yagami had entrusted the entire Task Force with it.

Aizawa's jaw dropped. "M-Mogi," he spluttered, his hand straying to his gun. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I'm not stealing the notebook," Mogi said hurriedly, now rushing to complete the sequence. His own,_ 62-324_, was the second-to-last_._ "Trust me, Aizawa. I only want to look inside its pages."

"How do you know all of our codes?" Ide asked suspiciously.

"I helped Light restore our database when L died, remember? Along the way, I came across all of your personal information." Aizawa and Ide looked stunned.

At that moment, Ryuk's massive wings flared in excitement. "This should be fun," he cackled gleefully.

Aizawa ignored the hovering Shinigami. "It's true that we haven't been able to cross-reference its contents with the old news reports, but that's because there are more pressing matters at hand now. Why do you need to see it?"

"Curiosity," Mogi replied as the inner compartment clicked open, shivering involuntarily when his eyes pierced the darkness.

A single, nondescript notebook was lying inside, taunting them all with its harmless-looking appearance. Unlike the one that they had attained from Higuchi, exchanged for Sayu and ultimately forfeited to the Shinigami Sidoh, this notebook had no markings on or inside its covers.

"Curiosity...? You're going to have to be more specific than that." Aizawa retrieved the item from the safe and peeled open the book himself. "I'm sorry, but I won't let you touch the notebook. You might try to escape with it or something. No offense, Mogi."

Mogi's mouth went dry. "None taken. Now, look for any English names written inside..." The detective gestured for his older associate to continue flipping through the pages. "Wait, stop!"

Among the hundreds of lines of kanji, a Romanized, messily scrawled _Q_ had caught his eye.

"Quillsh Wammy," Aizawa whispered, thunderstruck. "I never realized that it was _this_ notebook..."

Ide's eyes widened. "Wammy, as in Watari? So that must mean..."

There was a soft fluttering noise as the page was turned.

Ryuk inched closer, peering over the three men's shoulders. "Is this what you didn't want pretty boy and his bumbling monkey sidekick to know? How disappointing."

"You can put it back now, Aizawa." _And Touta Matsuda is not a monkey_, Mogi mentally added.

Aizawa nodded and the killer notebook was immediately returned to the vault. The bricked door beeped and clicked shut, securing the deadly weapon within the apartment wall once again.

"Please tell Near what we found," Mogi ordered hastily, checking his watch. "You have a twenty minute window, Aizawa." It had already been at least five minutes since Light and Matsuda headed down to the parking lot. He had kept them waiting long enough.

Realization dawned on the two men's faces. "Near? Was he the one behind your so-called curiosity?" Ide inquired.

"Yes," Mogi fibbed, bidding them both farewell and dashing out of the complex before they could question him any further. He wasn't emotionally ready to tell his partners that he had been in contact with the ex-Mafioso and his accomplice, Matt.

The detective headed straight for his car, his mind churning as he silently conjured a story that would deflect attention from his ulterior motives, along with providing a reasonable explanation for Misa's current state. Although, Light would probably be relieved that the girl was unconscious, anyway.

_Damn it_, Mogi would say, indicating the bottle of Muscat Bailey A that he had emptied himself, _Misa must have drunk herself to sleep again. Yes, she's been doing that quite a lot lately. Perhaps you should leave Misa a note telling her to sober up...she'll listen to you, Light. And it'll make my job much easier..._

* * *

_Crack!_

I was too busy shoving bar after bar down my esophagus to notice that my cell phone was buzzing on the carpet beside me.

I didn't even know why I was splurging on chocolate more than usual, but it had gotten to the point where I couldn't even go an hour without the sweet taste of creamy cocoa coating my tongue or the soothing sight of neat, metallic stacks waiting to be unwrapped after my belly stopped aching.

"_Mello, there's no point indulging in _comfort _food if you're just going to eat yourself sick!" _Matt had scolded me last night.

As if to support the redhead's point again, my gut let out a sad gurgle. _Well, whatever_.

I felt as though I had been treading water for the last eight days. My normally sharp eyes were glazed over from the lack of brain-stimulating activity; no matter how much of a tech whiz Matt was or how advanced our computers were, we kept hitting dead ends and turning up empty-handed after tracing Takada's emails for the entire week. None of them could be linked to Teru Mikami. It was now Tuesday morning, and our patience was wearing thin.

We hadn't heard from Near or Commander Rester again, not since the night we had all exchanged our birth names. Near was either too socially awkward to cope with the emotional connotations of his new olive branch, or he was waiting for me to take the initiative. I had too much pride to let myself be baited like that, so I mulishly refused to give in to the temptation.

I definitely couldn't contact Halle, as Takada's bodyguards had their phones regularly checked and most likely monitored. One wrong move would compromise her cover and jeopardize her life. For the same reason, I couldn't get in touch with Allie either.

"Mello, stop daydreaming and pay attention!"

There was a flash of silver as a chunk of tin foil came speeding toward my face. I dodged the candy wrapper projectile just in the nick of time.

"You have terrible aim," I growled, snatching up my vibrating mobile. My brow knitted in confusion as I registered the unfamiliar digits blinking up at me. "It's coming from Osaka."

Matt crawled over to where I was sitting. "That's an hour from Kyoto. It must be Allie and Gevanni."

"Why the hell would they be in Osaka?" We had looked into Mikami's credit card expenses and travel history, and they indicated that he only ventured out of the Kyoto region for important, high-profile cases. Mikami seemed to prefer working on home soil, where he had been born, raised and educated for the last twenty-seven years.

"Answer the damn phone and find out," Matt retorted, rolling his eyes behind his tinted goggles.

"I was getting to that," I muttered, flipping the cell open and putting it on speaker. "Hello?"

Our ears were greeted with the unmistakable din of a busy airport terminal. There was a muffled, robotic voice in the background announcing departures and arrivals in French and English, along with sounds of murmuring crowds and crying babies. Matt and I exchanged looks of bewilderment.

"_Mello, it's me. Can you hear me okay? I'm using a disposable phone, so…"_

"Yes, loud and clear," I responded a bit too eagerly. "Allie, what are you doing at KIX? Where's Gevanni?"

"_He's seeing me off… I'm going to England." _

"…what?" My heart sank to the pit of my stomach. "What about Mikami?"

There was a soft sigh. _"Apparently, my work here is done. Gevanni and I saw him use the notebook on the train home yesterday."_

I inhaled sharply. "So that settles it. What's next?"

"_Gevanni's going to watch him from a distance now to see if there's a…a Death God… possessing him. He said it only requires one person to do it, so we figured that I might as well go directly from Kansai International rather than waste time returning to Tokyo to fly from Narita."_

"Waste time?" I repeated, bristling. _But I'm here…_

"_Those were Gevanni's words, not mine."_

"Well, how long are you planning to stay in England?" I pressed.

"_It depends." _Allie hesitated before continuing. _"Maybe until New Year's."_

"New Year's?" I echoed, hating myself for sounding like a wounded, lovesick parrot. I took another anguished bite out of my chocolate-centric breakfast to settle my nerves. "But –"

"You're not only visiting your parents' grave, are you?" Matt interrupted.

There was a long pause.

"_No, Matt, I'm not. I want to see my house… maybe my old school… even St. Mark's…"_

"And Wammy's," I finished for her.

"_Yeah."_

"But you've never traveled by yourself before, correct? I think someone's in need of a pair of native guides," Matt suggested.

"_I don't think that's a good idea…" _Allie replied_. "What if someone recognizes Mello at the airport? Practically the whole country is on the lookout for you guys and the SPK. Any suspicious-looking Americans could be taken in for questioning."_

"That includes you."

"_I can blend in better than both you and Matt, and even if I get detained, I don't have anything to hide. They have nothing to link me to you anymore. Gevanni told me to get rid of my phone," _she explained. Her voice sounded strange, as though she were pinching her nose.

"We appreciate your concern, but if they haven't caught us by now, they never will," I confidently asserted.

I needed to reassure her that she didn't have to worry about me. I wanted Allie to know, without being too obvious about it, that I missed her comforting presence with every fiber of my being, and that I wished to pay my respects to her deceased family as well. But now wasn't the time to bring up such a delicate matter. "Besides, we're not making any progress here, either."

"_Mello, I think this is something I need to do by myself."_

"Well, don't be surprised if you eventually bump into us over there," Matt chuckled. "Mello is kind of persistent."

"_Hmm… he is, isn't he?"_

I scowled at the phone, and then at my best friend. "I'm sitting right here."

And so it was decided.

We would meet up at Trafalgar Square in London at noon. It was currently 5 A.M. in Japan, and it would take roughly half a day to arrive in England. Upon destination, the time would be approximately 8 A.M. GMT.

I would be seeing Allie – and Wammy's – again in little less than twenty-four hours.

I shoved my chocolate bar to one side and punched the air energetically, much to Matt's amusement. I hadn't felt _this _rejuvenated – _or scared, _my mind whispered ominously – in ages.

* * *

When I finally snapped my phone shut, Gevanni glanced up at me. "Near was right," he mused.

"About what?" I asked cautiously, tossing the disposable mobile into the nearest trash bin.

"That your friends would try to follow you to England," he responded, passing me my duffel bag.

The former FBI agent looked grim as we made our way to the checkpoint. Kansai International Airport was shabby and boring compared to Narita's, but on the outside, it was a whole different story. The entire structure was built on a man-made island, which had shocked me when Gevanni explained to me earlier why it was necessary to take the train again, even though I hadn't fully recovered from my very first and very horrifying railway experience.

"What's with the long face, Gevanni?"

"I dunno." He awkwardly rubbed the back of his head. "Oh, what the hell. Merry Christmas, Allie."

"…was that so hard to say?"

The older man coughed. "That's not all." He reached inside of his jacket and produced a small leather pouch, which he handed to me. "Near told me to give this to you before we part ways. He said that you would know what it goes to."

I stretched the bag's drawstrings to reveal a metal key. It would've looked like any other generic key – house, garage, car, I couldn't really tell the difference – if it weren't for the rubber white keycap bearing my first initial.

* * *

**A/N: I don't know what else to say here except: woohoo, one more week till Halloween! Keep your eyes peeled for a holiday-themed collection of one-shots coming your way *wink wink* **

Special shout out: to MaskedAngel18, who was first to review the last chapter! She has a Mello/OC fic of her own that I would recommend to check out as well (:

_Thanks also to all you other SUPERAWESOME readers/alerters/favoriters, and to those who have recently reviewed: akatsukifan, CagedAngel17, C. Holywell-Black, Echo1317, flygirl, Jade, Kira the Wolf, MafiaGirl14, MasaJeevas, MaskedAngel18, Mello's Yellow Jello (without the hyphen this time, haha :D), mima1216, Ovalord of da Empia of cookies, -patterns-at-dusk-, ravenstarwolf, Rijii, RWolfe94, Sailormercury117 (lol you were sixth again! xDD), Saya Hikari Uchiha, shinigami777, Usagi323 and Who's There ~ _

_Everyone else, you're in my heart *cough* Miss ya tooooons! _

**Thanks so much for reading; reviews will make the sky rain... Skittles :D**


	51. Roger That

**A/N: Time for some randomness! Does anyone find it interesting that Teru Mikami, who's also tied with Light and L (9), ranks higher than Near (8), Mello (7), and Matt (6) in the "knowledge" department? I found it pretty mind-blowing, since I never really made that comparison before. But I guess it makes sense, seeing as he's got an extra decade on the three successors.**

**Disclaimer: I down't. Hehe, I just made that word up xD **

**Note: The weather briefly mentioned is based on the real-life storm that took place across Europe this past winter (Dec '09/Jan '10). Oh, and I've never actually been to England myself (yet), but the rest of my family went two summers ago. I only got to visit France! **

* * *

**Chapter 51: Roger That**

* * *

_"Near, there's something else that you should know. I don't know if it's important or not, though."_

"Every little detail matters. What is it?"

_"Mikami was fiddling with his cell phone before he pulled out the notebook. I think he was… texting something."_

Near had held his breath; it was as though the world had suddenly stood still at Allie's pronouncement. "Are you sure?"

Gevanni had taken over at this point, taking the phone from his younger and apparently more observant companion. _"Yes, Near. That's true, it just slipped my mind. I was too focused on the notebook…"_

Allie was well on her way to England now, as were Near's two fellow successors. Near had no choice but to wait until his friends were safely invested with satiating their nostalgia from afar, or else there was no way of knowing what would happen. Distance equaled delay, which would serve as a buffer for any unpredictable moves. Mello was a proverbial fuse on the brink of being lit, Matt was only half-informed, and Allie had obviously not yet tapped into the other secrets that her amnesia-addled brain had once held.

Secrets that only Beyond Birthday himself had known.

The SPK leader had spent the entire night voicing his theories out loud to Commander Rester, bouncing ideas back and forth until every scenario had been exhausted...

...until he had come to the very likely conclusion that the train incident with the Japanese prosecutor had been entirely staged.

"Teru Mikami is a fake," Near uttered, juggling the Shinigami and X-Kira Lego pieces in his small hands. "Or perhaps, he was deploying reverse psychology. But I doubt it. He would have nothing to gain from that."

"Either way, he's our only lead right now," Rester mused. "The man collapsed after Mikami wrote in the notebook. Mikami clearly has the eyes, so he must be X-Kira."

"There's a chance Mikami did not kill the man himself," Near asserted. "Based on what Allie and Gevanni have told us, there's a strong possibility that he used his phone to send the victim's name and face to another Kira."

Rester's eyes bulged. "Another Kira?"

"Yes, the one wielding the actual notebook, or at least, the one who's carrying out the actual murders..."

The despair in Rester's face was understandable. This was bad. How many notebooks would they have to account for? As the SPK leader had pointed out a week before, there could be Y-Kiras and Z-Kiras scattered all over Japan, or even the globe.

_I wonder if this has occurred to Mello yet_, Near thought wryly.

It was only a matter of time until Near could afford to drop the bomb on his three friends, unless they were to figure it out themselves beforehand. There was no sense in causing an uproar. The Wammy's House alumnus could only hope that England would be enough to deflect Mello's attention from Mikami for a while.

Commander Rester's gravelly voice broke through the temporary silence that had taken hold of the SPK's headquarters. "Near, if what you're thinking is true, then we're back to square one."

Near raised his snowy-haired head to meet the older man's curious eyes. "That's what I'm afraid of."

He had ordered Gevanni to further shadow the Kyoto native to confirm his suspicions. If Mikami was not possessed by a Shinigami, the SPK agent would finally be able to put his notorious lock picking skills to good use.

A real notebook was out there, hidden only God-knows-where by God-knows-who. The first step to uncovering its location would be to determine, with solid proof, who it was that Mikami had contacted to perform the killing on the train.

It didn't surprise Commander Rester that Near, being one of the true successors to the world's most intuitive detective, already had a likely suspect in mind.

_Kiyomi Takada._

* * *

The moment the Boeing 777-300ER dipped below the clouds for its touchdown at Heathrow, my heart began beating like a jackhammer.

I was just minutes away from stepping on English soil. My birth soil.

I peered out the window, surprised and slightly uneasy at the blinding sight of the airport's powdered fields. I had never seen so much snow in real life before. Japan had been nothing compared to this. The runways, which were as stone-grey as the smoggy sky, had fortunately been deiced with urea (I had Mrs. Duncan's chemistry class to thank for that).

When the plane finally rolled to a stop, I joined the other passengers' in their jubilant applause. The twelve-hour flight had been long and dreary, and it didn't help that the movies that had been playing were Christmas specials that everybody, excluding the children and babies, must have had seen a hundred times.

Not that I didn't appreciate the fine talents of a certain former child star whose _Home Alone _antics had forever earned him a place in Hollywood's heart.

_Home, sweet home... _

I allowed myself to be swept out of the plane, through customs and into the arrivals terminal along with the jet-lagged crowd. I wrapped my hockey jacket around me, grateful for the cozy warmth of its cashmere wool and lambskin leather. When Gevanni had first purchased it for me, I was extremely reluctant about wearing it. Even though I had technically been role-playing, it made me feel like a phony. I didn't like the sport, let alone know how to play. Now, I was just glad that I had something to protect me from the daunting European winter ahead.

My first stop after the luggage pickup was the bathroom. It was silly, but I had suddenly felt the urgent need to fix myself up before making my first public outing in London.

I cringed when I saw my reflection in the mirror. Red-rimmed hazel eyes blinked back at me. I had been unable to fall asleep on the plane due to my excitement, and now I was being punished for it.

I was starting to unzip my duffel bag when I remembered that I had left all of my non-necessities back at the Perin Hotel, including my science textbook, which Los Angeles Coast High would probably never see again, and my trusty makeup sets. I had opted to leave them behind in case Mello or Matt ever decided to disguise themselves while I was gone. Misa's gifts of pepper spray and L'Oreal Blondissima, however, still resided underneath my packed clothes.

"Ugh," I groaned before splashing cold tap water all over my face. Feeling a bit more refreshed, I emerged from the bathroom looking as presentable as a girl hours from visiting her parents for the first time should be.

_Which reminds me... I need a suitable gift for their graves._

Along with paying for my airfare, Gevanni had graciously provided me with three hundred pounds. He had told me to think of it as an early Christmas present. The former FBI agent had also warned me to stay away from the florists in Heathrow. Apparently, they were all rip-offs. My best bet was the shopping district around Trafalgar Square, which was where I would be reuniting with Mello and Matt at noon.

That left me with just over three hours to kill.

The taxi ride downtown cost me nearly sixty pounds, but it was worth it. There was a lot of traffic due to the buildup of snow in the streets, but I didn't mind. It gave me an opportunity to sneak in a bit of sight-seeing without looking like an overexcited tourist. The whole thing was just so odd, because legally, I _was_ a foreigner. But in all other aspects, I knew that I belonged here.

That knowledge alone was enough to make my heart burst.

Despite being tight-lipped about all the other details, my adoptive parents had never concealed the fact that I had been raised in England. I could still remember the first time I saw Monica and John's concerned but elated faces hovering above me when I made my awakening recovery at Children's Hospital Los Angeles six years ago. The first words out of their mouths had been: "_Welcome to America, sweetheart_."

After I moved in with them, I had vowed to myself to become as "American" and "Californian" as one could possibly be. It sounded ridiculous, but I hadn't wanted to disappoint the Robinsons. It was my way of showing them that I was happy about my new home, and that I was grateful for taking me in as their daughter.

Looking back, now, I could finally understand that the majority of my actions had been rooted in a grievous desire to compensate for the missing chunks in my memory. I had constantly kept myself busy the first two years at LAC High. I joined and switched between clubs at random, eager to discover what I would like and what I would be good at, before ultimately settling on theater. Not to mention that I had also taken up surfing just so that I could keep in stride with Rick and Sara, who were both total masters at conquering the waves.

The idea of owning the water had been strangely appealing to me. The sensation of being high on adrenaline, in control and on top of Earth's greatest force, was seductive and empowering. It had always been the wipeouts that freaked me out. And after finding out I had tried to drown myself as a kid, I now understood why.

When I arrived at the bustling square thirty minutes later, I entertained the notion of seeking out my old house before catching up with the boys. But that thought was quickly scattered when my eyes fell upon the granite monument erected in the centre of the snow-dusted venue.

Or, more accurately, the group of policemen gathered at its base.

They were pointing straight at me.

* * *

"Home, freakin' sweet home!" Matt crowed, stretching his thin arms and then pressing his nose up against the window.

Sitting wedged between my best friend and a tattooed man that reminded me eerily of a certain former Mafia ringleader, I felt surrealistically out of place as we all waited impatiently for the deboarding call. I gave a snort. Matt had only been away from England for about two months now, yet he was acting as though he hadn't seen the place for years.

Like me.

"Home, _bittersweet _home," I muttered back to the redhead.

The last twelve hours had flown by – pun unintentional – so quickly, I could hardly believe my ears when they announced our arrival at Heathrow. My stomach clenched, and I tossed the remainder of my chocolate bar into my mouth before I could completely lose my appetite. Out of habit, my hand strayed to my hip where my gun was tucked securely in its holster. I relaxed, and my gut unclenched almost immediately.

Matt had warned me beforehand that the security at Heathrow had kicked up several notches since I had left all those years ago, but despite his admonitions, I had been unwilling to abandon my trusty weapon in Japan. He had even offered to keep it locked up inside the glove compartment of the Camaro, which was parked underground back at the hotel, but I had refused to be dissuaded.

If I had been aware of the amount of trouble I would soon be getting into, I _probably _would've listened to Matt.

Probably.

Ten minutes later, when the throng of passengers had already passed through customs and were preparing to head over to the baggage claim, a guard stopped both me and the Rod Ross lookalike for a random security check. It was obvious that my injured face and the older man's exposed tattoos had set off some alarm bells. Apparently, appearance discrimination was alive and well here at Heathrow.

The other man passed through without a single complaint or hitch. And then it was my turn... to be frisked.

_Shit! _

"Uh..."

Everything would have gone smoothly, just like all the other times, if it hadn't been a goddamn _body _check.

"I assure you, this is standard procedure. Please step to the side."

To the guard's credit, he noticed my brief but telling hesitation and hastily knocked me to the floor before I could hide my poorly concealed pistol – not that I would've been successful at doing so. Shouts erupted all around us; a paper bag was thrown over my head as I was swiftly lead away, my holster now lighter about two pounds and my wrists cuffed behind my back.

"You have been apprehended. Do not try to resist. You are now in our custody, Mr. Kant."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," I mumbled from underneath my makeshift mask. The guard jostled me and I let out a guttural noise.

"Mitchell!" Matt yelled from somewhere behind me. "Don't worry –"

"Sir, are you with this man?"

"Yes! And we can explain!"

_How, exactly? _I wondered as I was dragged off and shoved into what I knew to be an interrogation room. There was no point in fighting back; if I tried to escape, I would be apprehended by all the other guards that had probably barricaded the terminal by now. Matt had been right. I shouldn't have risked bringing my Beretta into England.

Gears were rapidly churning in my head. _Now, how to get out of this mess?_

I wouldn't be able to do anything but lie and stall for time. Matt was my only hope.

I swore under my breath. _What a disaster. _Of course, I've had plenty of experience getting myself out of sticky situations, but none of them had involved the direct authorities. None of them had involved _me _being in handcuffs.

"Fu – "

I was cut short when the bag was ripped off my face, revealing a medium-sized room with three whitewashed walls and a large two-way mirror stretched across the fourth. A stainless steel table gleamed in front of me. I surreptitiously checked its legs. _Damn it! _They were glued to the floor, as was the chair that I was currently seated in.

"Explain this," the guard said coldly, dangling my favorite weapon from his latexed hand. "Explain how you were able to smuggle this firearm in from Japan."

I shrugged. "I have rights."

"Your American rights do not apply here," the man declared, slapping my passport down onto the table for emphasis.

I smirked widely and rose from the chair, taking one confident step toward the man. "I'm a police officer." I still had the fake NYPD badge that Halle had provided me last month, but if Heathrow decided to investigate my claim, I would be screwed.

"Sit down!" However, the guard looked hesitant now. "What's your badge number?"

_Damn it_. "I'm not officially listed," I lied smoothly. "I'm a private detective with the New York police."

My words were met with a curt guffaw. "Can you prove this? Who is your supervisor?"

"That's classified…"

"Classified, my ass. Is Mitchell Kant your real name, or is it an alias?"

I stayed silent.

"Alright, I'll be back in about fifteen minutes or so. I'm going to contact your department and run your name by them. Any last words?"

"Be my guest," I said snootily before settling back into my chair, my metal cuffs rattling with each movement.

_Come on, Matt… do something! _He was most likely in the next room as we were speaking, hopefully concocting a story that matched my own.

The fifteen minutes trickled past, and then ten more, according to the clock hanging above the two-way mirror. My forehead was starting to feel a little damp, but I refused to show any discomfort. Were they trying to break me down or worm some kind of confession from me or something?

I tipped my head back to glare at the fluorescent spotlight shining down on me. I had always been one for theatrics, but I had never been on the receiving end of them. Fully knowing that I was being watched, I stayed as motionless as I could, ensuring that they would get absolutely nothing from profiling me.

It was almost nine when the door reopened.

My head snapped toward the entrance, and I felt my breath hitch. For a moment, all I could do was blink dumbly at the newcomer.

It was ironic. The last time I had seen him, he was sitting behind an antique oak desk. Now, it was _me_ that was looking up at _him_, wordlessly pleading for understanding.

"You're free to go now. I apologize for the inconvenience." The guard's voice was filled with disbelief as he unlocked the handcuffs that bound me and handed me my gun. I merely grunted in response, and he hurried out of the room to return to his post.

"Mello…"

_Mello… Near… how about you two work together?_

"Hello, old man," I said stiffly.

"What has the world done to you?" Roger whispered, his tired eyes tracking down from my scarred visage to the weapon grasped between my fingers.

* * *

**A/N: ****My Halloween fic is up, for those who might be interested. Hope you'll enjoy it, and have an excellent, candy (but not cavity)-filled weekend!**

Special shout out: to Kira the Wolf, who was first to review the last chapter! You're awesome, that's all I can really say (:

Special mention: to OhMyGeePinkSucksAss, who got submitted the 500th review! Arghh, thank you! :3

_Thanks to all you AWESOME readers/alerters/favoriters, especially to those who have recently reviewed: AirbenderCassy22, akatsukifan, CagedAngel17, C. Holywell-Black, Dai Uzimaki, flygirl, gina, Jade, Kira the Wolf, MafiaGirl14, MaskedAngel18, Mello's Yellow Jello, mima1216, moonfleur, Neckocat, OhMyGeePinkSucksAss, Ovalord of da Empia of cookies, -patterns-at-dusk-, ravenstarwolf, RWolfe94, Sailormercury117 (lol it's okay, and aww! That was such a cute/bittersweet review!), Saya Hikari Uchiha, shinigami777 and Who's There ~ _

_Everyone else, you're in my heart! _

**Thanks so much for reading!**


	52. A Hacker's Best Friends

**A/N: Hope everyone had an awesome Halloween! We ended up with enough leftovers to last us until Valentine's Day. Anyway, this week has been incredibly crazy for me, now that my work term at the office is officially half over.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the OCs. Oh, and the stats regarding the crime rate are based on a 2009 BBC news report.**

* * *

**Chapter 52: A Hacker's Best Friends**

* * *

My first instinct was to make a run for it or jump back into the taxi, but I fought it down. _Don't be stupid!_ I didn't want to appear like I really _did_ have something to hide; neither did I want to instigate a city-wide wild goose chase. So instead, I nodded at the group of waiting officers to acknowledge their somewhat intimidating presence.

They took that as a green light to approach me.

"Chief Inspector Lopez," one of the men declared, sticking out a tanned, slender hand. I shook it firmly, and then glanced at the rest of the policemen. There were three others, all in their early thirties or forties, clean-shaven and red-nosed from the cold. They were obviously the chief inspector's subordinates.

"Good morning," I said as casually as I could. "How may I help you?"

The Hispanic officer flashed me a reassuring smile. "So you _are_ American. Brilliant! What's your name, Miss?" Inspector Lopez's pearly whites were instantly replaced by a grim slash. My stomach plummeted. "Would you mind terribly if I saw your passport?"

"I-I'll need to see some identification," I informed him, taking a cautious step back. Even if we were all out in broad daylight, I couldn't let my guard down.

The man let out a dry, infectious chuckle that spread to his three companions. "Is there really a point? No officer on the face of this planet carries picture IDs anymore. Badges can be forged." His frown deepened. _"_What you _should _be asking for is verification, not identification."

My brows nearly shot off my face in surprise. He sounded a lot like…

_Like…Near. Or Matt._

"Alexandra Robinson," I blurted out before I could have anymore second thoughts.

"Robinson." Inspector Lopez's eyes lit up in recognition, and he passed me a sleek chrome mobile. I stared at it in bewilderment. "Someone has a message for you," he continued briskly. "Does the name _M. House_ ring a bell?"

My heart lurched at the familiar alias. It had to be either Mello or Matt. Why in the world would they try to get in touch with me through the London Police?

_Are they in trouble_?

As if to answer my unspoken question, Lopez bent down and muttered into my ear, "Headquarters received a distress signal from one of our contacts about ten minutes ago. We're not COLP."

I drew back in alarm, but the other man held out his hand, palm out. There was something scribbled across his wrist. Nothing could've prepared me for what it said.

_MI6._

My jaw almost hit the ground.

"Inspector" Lopez spat into his hand and rubbed the saliva around, effectively washing away the incriminating ink. He gestured at the three other "officers" and all four men tactfully slunk away until they were safely out of earshot. Nonetheless, I angled my back to them before shoving the phone against my ear.

"Hello?"

_"Allie, is that you?"_

"Matt!" I whispered, cupping my hand around my mouth in case someone was trying to read my lips, vaguely aware of the fact that I was getting more paranoid by the day. "What happened? Where's Mello?"

_"He's been detained at the airport. They found his gun and hauled both of us in for questioning."_

"Oh my God!" I exclaimed. From the corner of my eye, I could see that one of the MI6 agents had jumped at the sound of my outburst. "How is he going to get out of it?" I pressed, lowering my voice.

"_I made a few phone calls_," Matt explained. "_Roger's on his way to bail Mello out."_

"Roger?" I repeated, dazed. "So, was he the one who sent out the distress signal?"

"_No, that was me. Roger doesn't know about you yet."_

I knew that now was not the time, but I just had to know. "Matt, but…" I dropped my voice even further. "…the _Secret Service? _Seriously? How…?"

"_Let's just say that I made more friends than enemies when I hacked their mainframe." _I could've sworn that I could hear the smug smirk lifting Matt's lips. _"They offered to put me on their under-the-table payroll, so I accepted."_

"Holy crap!"

"_Why are you so surprised?" _Matt chortled. _"_Someone_ had to keep an eye out for Mello's name floating around on Interpol's databases. But __I'll save that story for another time. But for now, I want you to listen carefully."_

"I'm all ears," I promised.

"_Don't stray too far from the square. If you want to take a look around or anything, go right ahead, but Agent Lopez and his men will be following you from a distance."_

"What do I need bodyguards for?" I asked uncomfortably.

"_The overall crime rate might have fallen," _Matt explained, _"but there's also been an increase in the number of hate crimes in the U.K. lately. I just want to make sure that you're in safe hands until we arrive."_

I shivered. Somehow, I had pictured that Kira had been able to reach every corner of the world. Apparently, it wasn't the case – not yet, anyway. Of course, criminals all over the globe were still dying… but in time, Light Yagami would achieve his disillusioned utopia.

_Not if we have anything to say about it._

"For your information, Gevanni taught me some self-defense moves," I enlightened my friend on the other end of the line. _Though more practice wouldn't hurt!_ "But alright then, I'll be waiting. Good luck."

"_You too."_

Matt hung up first, leaving me to deal with his Secret Intelligence acquaintances. I braced myself for the unavoidable and strode up to the waiting group, feeling wobbly-kneed and overwhelmed by their covert identities.

"Thanks for the phone," I greeted Agent Lopez, handing the man his cell.

He shook his head, and I got another eyeful of unbelievably white teeth. "That's yours," he declared. "It's coming out of _M_'s paycheck, though."

"Sure thing." I pocketed the mobile, allowing myself an amused smile that matched the older man's. Matt, world-class tech genius, had millions at his fingertips. Cash was the last thing he needed to worry about.

* * *

Matt had called dibs on the backseat, which left me riding shotgun up front alongside a man that, until just a month ago, I had pushed aside any thought of during the years I had been in the United States fighting my way up the ranks of national gangs. The only man, aside from Matt and Near, that had ever witnessed me at my best and worst firsthand.

The man who had started it all.

Sophocles once wrote, "_No one loves the messenger who brings bad news."_

Indisputably, I had blamed Roger Ruvie for my downward spiral into the underworld.

With a burning pang of well-deserved shame, I recalled my initial hatred for the elderly caretaker after he had informed me of L's death. I had lashed out, brutally snatched him by his collar and yelled profanities at his calm, wrinkled face. Only now did I realize that it wasn't unbreakable serenity that had marked his features, but shock and exhaustion.

_It wasn't Roger's fault, _I reminded myself again, _it was Kira's, and mine. I could've swallowed my pride, but I chose not to. _

There was a proverbial elephant in the car, that much was certain. The only sounds that penetrated the thick silence were the musical pings emitting from Matt's game console in the back.

"Ahem." Roger cleared his throat in a blatant attempt to catch my attention.

My eyes snapped to the side. "Yeah?" I said gruffly.

"You're lucky I was in town today," the old codger mumbled, avoiding my gaze and staring intently over the dashboard. My chest became constricted. Was he so afraid of me that he couldn't even do me the simple courtesy of eye contact?

"I guess so."

"If I had known that we'd have visitors, I would've made preparations..."

I shrugged and shifted in my seat. Damn him for catching me off guard. Damn _Matt_ for purposely leaving me to deal with Roger when I wasn't mentally prepared for it.

Roger tried again. "In case anyone was wondering… I was doing my Christmas shopping today."

Matt leaned forward. "Anything for your favorite kids?"

The balding grey-haired man let out a noncommittal sigh.

"Christmas shopping?" I repeated incredulously. "Since when do you celebrate the holidays?"

Roger's voice was soft, hesitant. "People change, Mello..."

_You mean me. _"You have no idea," I muttered darkly.

To his credit, Roger changed the subject. "So, what exactly are we doing right now?"

Matt had given him directions to drive up to Trafalgar Square. However, he had left out one very crucial detail – Allie.

Secretly, I found it rather entertaining that Roger had no idea that he was about to get the biggest surprise of his life. He had already received a shocker at the airport, but seeing Alternative again would just take the cake.

"We're picking up a friend," Matt replied smoothly, "and then we'll be stopping by Brompton Cemetery."

Roger's forehead creased. "A cemetery? Why?"

"Why do you think?" I responded a bit testily. "Use your common sense, old man."

His lips tightened. I could see that he was restraining himself from chastising me as he would have all those years ago, when I was still legally under his care, innocent, safe and warm in the haven that was Wammy's House. Had it really been a mere five years? It felt like so much longer.

Like a lifetime.

Now that L and Watari were gone, Roger was all that was left of the orphanage as I had known it. According to Matt, most of the kids had done a "Mello" and had flown the coop as soon as they hit fifteen or sixteen. All of them had managed to hit the ground running, successful careers and futures already stretched out before them. The only one who ever bothered to occasionally visit Roger was Linda, who held a soft spot for the aging, lonesome caretaker. Additionally, the teachers had been cycled out due to the dwindling number of children that were interested in cultivating their minds, much less becoming the next L.

Maybe _that _was why Roger seemed more than willing to receive guests.

Matt broke the awkward silence. "Can't this piece of junk go any faster?" he complained good-naturedly, smacking at the shabby interior of the car for emphasis.

"Of course," Roger said, equally as haughty. "But unlike you, I obey the speed limits. And don't make fun of Ben like that."

"A person is only as good as the car they drive," Matt droned, sounding like an automobile commercial.

"I'd take Ben over a Camaro any day."

Matt snickered. "Your loss, old man."

I was taken aback. Obviously he and Matt were on well enough terms to spar like this. Had my best friend been that lonely when I had left? Matt had never mentioned befriending Roger before.

We arrived at the busy square half an hour later. It was nearly ten, but Matt had assured me that Allie would already be there, waiting for us. I hadn't asked him how he could've known – I had been too consumed with Roger's frail, yet somehow, overwhelming presence.

Roger ended up illegally parking beside one of the venue's many curbs. I didn't bother pointing it out. When Roger stepped out of the car, he had to blink a few times to clear his vision. The snow that blanketed almost every inch of the famous square was absolutely blinding. Roger huffed. Matt laughed, tapping his amber-colored goggles with satisfaction. Similarly, I smirked, purposely readjusting my aviators just to tease the old man.

Matt lead the way, his gangly form weaving through the throngs of tourists and couples cuddling by the snow-stuffed fountains. I fell into step alongside my best friend, beckoning exasperatedly for Roger to hurry up. The old caretaker was lagging behind; I could detect a slight limp in his step. My mouth twitched and I subconsciously slowed my pace.

The air whooshed out of my lungs when I was suddenly tackled from the side. "Oof!" I grunted, glancing down. "What the hell?"

My gun was gone.

I whirled around, and my mouth fell open at the sight of Allie eagerly waving her arm at us from the foot of the gigantic monument cemented in the heart of the square, twenty feet away. There was a shopping bag hanging off her other arm, and her face looked flushed from the cold. I was about to lope forward, but Matt stopped me.

"Wait."

Four men stepped into view and began approaching us. One of them was cradling my Beretta in his hands. I could see the telltale crucifix dangling out from between his clasped fingers. The only thing that kept me from beating the hell out of them was the fact that we were out in public. That, and…

…Matt was smiling at them.

"Do you _know_ them?" I hissed at him.

"Yeah," Matt murmured. "The one with your gun is MI6 Agent Lopez. That's just an alias, of course. The other three are Morales, Nash and Wilcox. They're here at my request… they're associates of mine."

"Is that some kind of joke?" I growled. Not only had I been one-upped by a primitive body search at Heathrow, I had now been disarmed by one of Britain's finest. Not the greatest way to start off my return to England. Though, I had to admit that I was impressed that Matt had evidently managed to infiltrate the Secret Service.

"You must be _M_," the one nicknamed Lopez uttered, quietly addressing Matt. Lopez's partners milled around restlessly, discreetly checking the three of us for more concealed weapons. I almost laughed out loud at the thought of Roger having rifles strapped inside his trench coat.

"Maybe."

"As you can see, she's fine." Lopez gestured toward Allie, who was waiting patiently by the large stone column.

"Thank you for your services," Matt said curtly. "Please return the weapon to my friend."

The Hispanic man looked dubious. "Is he licensed to carry it?"

"Yes," I snapped, wrenching my pistol out of the agent's grip and returning it to its holster. It was half-truthful. My permit, like my passport, had been one of the first documents I had forged upon my debut into American crime.

"Well then," one of the other men – Morales – announced, glancing at his watch. "We'd better get back to headquarters. Lopez, are we done here?"

The leader of the group nodded, running a hand through his mop of black curls before winking at Matt. "It's been a delight finally meeting you, Mr. House."

"Likewise."

"You owe us one," the agent continued, holding up a finger to accentuate his point.

Matt laughed pleasantly. "You have it backwards, mate. You still owed me for tapping into the Russian m– "

"Okay, okay," Lopez hastily conceded, tipping his head in farewell. "We're even. Until next time, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!"

* * *

After Agent Lopez and his partners took off, I advanced on my two friends and the elderly man whom I assumed to be Roger.

"Hey," I called out carefully, and before I could even blink, I was swept off my feet. A firm kiss was immediately planted on my cheek, and then my mouth. Mello's lips were chapped from the winter air, but I didn't really care.

The old man looked shocked. "Mello… is she…?" he stammered.

For a moment, I thought that he had recognized me. My heart soared with excitement. "Roger?" I said eagerly, letting go of Mello's neck.

The old man stared at me over his undersized spectacles. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

My shoulders slumped an inch. "Well," I began shyly, "my name's Alexandra."

"Indeed," Matt cut in, placing an arm around the older man's back, as though to support him in case he buckled to the ground. "The same Alexandra who tried to off herself six years ago – _tried _being the operative word."

The man's expression was priceless.

"A?"

"Yeah. That's me."

A second later, all four of us were sniffling and crying and huddling together and nothing else mattered but each other's warmth, and in that instant, I knew that everything that I had done up until this point had been entirely worth it.

* * *

**A/N: Bawww! Leftover Caramilk bars to those who knows what I did there with the four agents.**

Special shout out: to Dai Uzimaki, who was first to review the last chapter! Argh, thanks for all your continual support (:

_Thanks to all you wonderful readers/alerters/favoriters; special thanks to the latest reviewers: AirbenderCassy22, akatsukifan, annee loves sasusaku, Can'tContainIt, C. Holywell-Black, Dai Uzimaki, Echo1317, flygirl, gina, Kira the Wolf, MafiaGirl14, MasaJeevas, MaskedAngel18, Mello's Yellow Jello, mima1216, moonfleur, OhMyGeePinkSucksAss, Ovalord of da Empia of cookies, -patterns-at-dusk-, Sailormercury117, Saya Hikari Uchiha, ShadowedSerenity, shinigami777, Who's There and YuukikuranxD ~ _

_Everyone else, you're in my heart! _

**Thanks so much for reading! **


	53. Lament for the Fallen

**A/N: The answer to the previous challenge was that the MI6 agents' aliases began with L, M, N and W.**

**Disclaimer: The usual! **

**Note: The Brompton Cemetery mentioned is based on its real life namesake.**

* * *

**Chapter 53: Lament for the Fallen**

* * *

The moment the waterworks were finished, the expected outpouring of questions began.

"How is your family? Are you alright? How are you doing in school? Why are you here? How did _they_ find you? Do you remember anything at all?"

Roger seemed hell-bent on jamming the ten minute ride to Brompton Cemetery with as many questions as he possibly could. I couldn't blame him – although, I did feel a little flare of anger that our former caretaker was showering Allie with more attention than I had earlier received. But then again, I hadn't exactly expected – or deserved, for that matter – a warm welcome.

Roger was a shrewd man. I knew, without being explicitly asked or confronted about it, that the old man had some inkling of my less than savory activities during the last five years.

I swallowed my bitterness and focused on the road ahead. Matt was driving, as I was unfamiliar with the downtown area of London. It was all so pleasantly different from Los Angeles: the comfortable curves of the streets, the abundance of historical structures, even the trademark red phone booths with buses to match. Maybe I was biased, but compared to California, England was like a breath of fresh air – figuratively speaking.

The smog that famously filled the skies seemed to shroud the land in a protective shadow, isolating it from the horrors of the rest of the globe. Aside from Japan, the United States was the first nation to publicly declare acceptance of Kira. After Kira's notorious annihilation of the Mafia, which had ironically been just a by-product of his real intentions – _to smoke me out_ – America had, as a whole, bowed down to him.

England, on the other hand, had yet to shift in Kira's direction. I could feel it in my bones; there was still resistance. Hope. Traditional crime and law enforcement were still alive and well in this nation. It was almost as if the country was secretly aware that she had lost one of her greatest minds and heroes – Quillsh Wammy – in the war against Kira, rather than a natural heart attack as the official obituaries stated, and as a result, was determined to stand its ground against the world's new god.

I nibbled on a corner of my current chocolate bar, a Cadbury Dairy Milk that I had purchased at one of the airport's duty-free shops after Roger had sprung me out. My thoughts drifted to my own revolt.

_Which country_, I idly wondered, _would claim the right to execute me once Kira is captured?_

Deep down, I already knew that leading a normal life after Kira was an impossible dream. I would always be on the lam, looking over my shoulder, running and hiding until I was finally caught.

I would never be able to…

_To…live a normal life._

"We're here," Matt suddenly announced. "Allie, are you sure about this?"

I glanced up into the rearview mirror and caught Allie's eye. She looked relieved now that Roger had obligingly ceased his incessant grilling. "Yeah, I recognize the gate," she responded, gazing outside the window at the tall, brown-bricked arch.

_Erected A.D. 1839, West of London and Westminster Cemetery_, the outdated engravings proclaimed above the entrance.

Matt ran his gloved fingers through his reddening hair. "I wasn't asking whether this was the right place or not…"

"I know," Allie whispered before Matt could explain himself. "I appreciate your concern, but I've been ready my entire life. I'm sure about this." With that, she stepped out of Roger's car. I quickly climbed out after her and into the pale sunlight, snagging her right hand. Matt ended up being Roger's arm support.

Allie's grip tightened around mine as the four of us walked past the wrought iron gates and through the burial site's looming archway.

The graveyard was otherwise empty and quiet, save for the rhythmic crunching noises underfoot caused by the light sprinkling of salt on the wide strip of pavement. Thankfully, the massive evergreen lime trees that lined the park provided us some shelter against the full brunt of the biting wind. Our footfalls became softer and more reverent as tombstones of varying shades of grey, white and salmon came into full view.

* * *

Roger was wheezing slightly as he hobbled between Mello and Matt.

Up close, the man looked even older than I first thought. Wrinkles creased every inch of his seventy-year-old face, and the tufts of hair that sprouted from his temples were more white than silver.

According to Mello, Roger was notorious for disliking kids. He preferred spending time with his books rather than young company, and favored entomology over childcare. The thought of the old handler toiling away resentfully, trapped by his duties, filled me with an unfamiliar longing and sadness.

My first impression of Roger was that he was an incredibly lonely man. I couldn't even picture growing old and settling down without a family to look after, much less despise the lifetime career I would soon invest my time and savings into. I couldn't imagine living a life of solitude. I didn't _want _to.

Of course, none of that would matter anymore if we all failed to take Light Yagami down.

I pushed all thoughts of Kira aside. Now was not the time to be brooding about a mass murderer. I had long-overdue respects to pay, tears to shed, prayers to say.

Row after uneven row, snow-kissed headstones protruded from the hard winter soil. My stomach began to churn as I took in the sight of the countless war memorials, marble statues, granite angels, rusty iron crosses, the old toys and framed photos and rotting bouquets nestled between the short blades of dead brown grass. In the heart of it all was a domed gothic chapel, situated at the end of the dividing pathway.

Everything was so serene, so peaceful, so fitting for the forever-sleeping occupants buried six feet into the earth.

I forced myself to keep going, relying on the magnetic sensation embedded into my motor senses rather than my actual consciousness. While I couldn't remember attending my parents' funeral, I must've visited them at least a hundred times in the past for my feet to know exactly where they were supposed to be heading. My throat closed up.

_No... not now... not yet..._

I could feel Matt's goggled eyes burn into my back as I warily guided my three companions through the markers. It was as though he actually _expected_ me to collapse on the spot in grief. No, I was going to stay strong. I had to.

We eventually came to a stop in front of a pair of identical-looking, hauntingly familiar tombstones. I tentatively brushed the snow off the first one, and then the second. The shopping bag that I carried in my left hand crinkled loudly when it crashed to the ground.

The deep-set inscriptions stood out in stark contrast against the dirty white marble:

_Sunny Shire (June 12, 1967 - August 30, 1997). Loving mother, wife, community figure._

_You will be missed._

_Elliot Shire (October 7, 1965 - August 30, 1997). Loving father, husband, community figure._

_You will be missed._

Hot, scalding tears spilled over my cheeks before I could even finish reading the words. Vision blurring, I jammed my wet face into Mello's shoulder, frantically breathing in his faint but comforting scent of soap and leather.

_They will be missed._

They were. They were sorely missed, every single minute of my forgotten and remembered life. John, Monica and Amanda were amazing people, but they could never in a million years be able to replace my first family. It was all I could do to keep from dropping to the snow-covered ground, where I would be even closer to their once-warm bodies, where I could curl up and weep and wish to see them just one more time.

"Just let it all out," Mello murmured, sliding his arm around my hockey jacket and squeezing my waist.

And I did.

As I cried, Matt tactfully tended to the gifts that I had bought at the square downtown while waiting for Roger to arrive. He scooted down and sifted through the bag, taking out two wrapped parcels. He untied the decorative ribbons, revealing the bowls inside.

Matt set the oriental ceramics at the foot of the markers. I couldn't even muster up the strength to verbally thank him, so Mello said it for me instead. However, Matt didn't appear to hear his friend. He was too busy staring at a nearby patch of ice stretched across the dirt.

"What are you looking at?" Roger wanted to know.

"There's something beneath that ice," Matt replied slowly.

The three of us followed Matt's outstretched finger. He was right. "It looks like a card," Mello murmured.

I blearily locked eyes with Matt. "Do it."

One sputtering flame and thirty anxious seconds later, the frozen patch had melted away to reveal a very soggy piece of paper. The card looked handmade. Matt continued to use his cigarette lighter to dry the folded note, careful not to cause it to catch on fire. We crowded around to watch the working teen.

"What does it say?"

Matt squinted at the smudged ink. "It's in Japanese," he declared, stunned.

_No... it can't be…_

"_I'm sorry_," Matt translated, "_that you had to share in their fate, but I had no choice. I promise to look after your daughter. Rest in peace... Dragon... Blossom." _He lifted his head to meet my gaze. "This is going to sound twisted, but the first part sounds like some kind of confession._"_

For a moment, I could've sworn my heart stopped beating. I felt as though I was being simultaneously stabbed in the chest and stomach with an ice-cold dagger.

"Dragon Blossom_? _What kind of name is that?_" _Mello asked curiously, taking the decade-old card from the younger boy. "_Ryuu_ – _saki_...?"

The invisible blade twisted.

"Ryuzaki?" Roger muttered, looking disgusted. "That was Backup's name before he came to the orphanage."

Mello dropped the card as though it had really caught ablaze. Without thinking, I picked it up and slipped it into my pocket.

"What are you doing?" Roger asked, shocked.

"I'm taking it with me. Beyond Birthday's trash doesn't belong here," I said steadily. But on the inside, I was falling apart.

It had been more than a simple accident.

Rue Ryuzaki's foster guardians had apparently overdosed on ecstasy, which had led them to their fatal collision with my parents. Yet _this_ message suggested otherwise.

_Backup killed them all._

"He drugged his own parents," I voiced out loud, "and then framed them for abuse."

The other boys gasped, but Roger didn't even indicate the slightest of surprise.

I rounded on the elderly caretaker. "You were aware of this?" I accused the man that I barely knew.

"So were you," Roger spluttered in his defense. "Alter – Alexandra, you came to me with your suspicions after L took you both in. But... but you admitted that you didn't have any court-worthy proof to support your theory, so... don't look at me like that, those were your exact words!"

_Court-worthy proof?_

The three of us stared at Roger in mounting horror.

_"I own you, A. You owe me your livelihood."_

That would explain B's abnormal possessiveness toward me in the past. That would explain our sudden fallout, my constant rejection of the older genius. It had been, without a doubt, sick, delusional remorse that had propelled him into, as Beyond Birthday had put it, "_protected_ me _from the snot-nosed prats at St. Mark's_... _tutored_ me _until I was at the top of all my classes."_

And it had been fear that kept me away once I had discovered the truth.

_But how_? How had I managed to figure it out?

_"You cheated on the entrance exams. You used your... your gift... to solve those cases!"_

_"First you accuse me of not being human, yet now you're calling it a gift?"_

_"It's a curse!"_

_What curse? What gift?_

I could feel the bile rising in my throat. "I need to get out of here," I mumbled, turning to flee the cemetery, leaving the tombs, the trees, the gates, my parents and my friends behind.

* * *

"Allie, wait up!"

Matt promptly raced after the sprinting girl. I, however, lingered at the graves for another minute before unhooking the crucifix from my gun and placing it gently into Elliot Shire's porcelain bowl. Roger stayed silent.

I wasn't even sure whether Allie's parents had been Christian or not; their headstones bore no distinctly religious markers. Nonetheless, one of my most prized possessions would be my tribute to her parents, my attempt to redeem the atrocious scene that had just unfolded.

Allie was waiting for us inside Roger's car. She was sitting in the backseat, red-faced and visibly shaken.

Now it was Roger's turn to accuse Allie. "You jimmied my door?" The old man examined his precious, ancient "Ben" with hawk-like scrutiny.

"No, you forgot to lock up earlier."

"Oh. My apologies..."

In a month's time, Allie would tell me that Gevanni had indeed taught her how to pick basic locks as recommended by Near. And in a month's time, our lives would change forever.

But right now, I had no way of knowing that.

Without being told, Roger was aware of our next destination. We reached Winchester in just under an hour and a half. The drive had been extremely somber. Despite sitting up front with Roger, Matt had sensibly refrained from making snarky comments about the seventy-year-old man's driving. Meanwhile, I had given Allie bits of chocolate, since she had not eaten since her flight and looked close to keeling over in exhaustion... which she eventually did. I had also dozed off for a while, until Matt shook us both awake.

Roger quietly informed us that after the Japanese Task Force had shipped over Watari's body back in 2004, Quillsh Wammy's corpse had been returned to his family for safekeeping. L's body, on the other hand, had initially been arranged to be randomly buried in Abney Park, another one of London's Magnificent Seven cemeteries.

That particular grave now sat empty.

A few months after I had left the genius-rearing institution, Roger had successfully transferred L's corpse back to the orphanage. While this was not news to Matt, I was completely floored. The surviving caretaker had taken it upon himself to fulfill L's wishes and had buried the world's greatest detective close to home – literally. A mausoleum had been constructed in the orphanage's own backyard, deep within the neighboring woods, out of sight but not out of mind. I had to admit, the seclusion suited the secretive recluse who was my idol.

"Technically, these grounds _do _belong to Quillsh – me," Roger corrected himself as he veered around the bend. Although it was only noon, the shadows cast by the towering trees made our surroundings look as dark as night itself. "But no one ever comes in here. The children think this place is haunted." He chuckled darkly. "They're not entirely wrong."

We pulled to a stop in front of a modest-sized sandstone structure. The rust-colored bricks of the mausoleum were stained with snow and moss; Roger evidently had difficulties in maintaining the building by himself. The steps were slicked with ice, so we had to take great pains to ensure Roger didn't accidentally slip.

"Does Near know about this place?" Allie inquired, her voice hushed as we made our way through the entrance hall.

Matt nodded. "How do you think he managed to make L's finger puppet?"

I almost puked up my chocolate; the thought was sickening.

"Huh, that reminds me." Matt pulled out his mobile and speed-dialed a number.

Roger and I simultaneously scowled our disapproval.

"Near? Yeah, we're here. Mmhmm, sure. I'll pass that along. Oh? _Oh really_?"

Matt glanced up from his call. His eyes flickered briefly to Allie. "Near wants us to say a few words for him, for L. For L… L Lawliet."

A grin broke out onto my face. I just couldn't help it. Mogi had obviously come through for us just in time. "Tell Near that it's not a problem."

"Tell him I said hello," Roger added.

Matt nodded and quickly finished the conversation. After the offending cell phone disappeared into the redhead's vest pocket, he gestured for us to follow.

So occupied and eager was I to finally pay my respects to L – _L Lawliet – _that I didn't notice that Allie's eyes had suddenly glazed over.

* * *

**A/N: O****n a lighter note, they're finally in Winchester! On Wammy's property, at least.**

Special shout out: to Saya Hikari Uchiha, who was first to review the last chapter! Thanks for being so cool.

_Thanks to all you wonderful readers/alerters/favoriters; special thanks to the latest reviewers: akatsukifan, annee loves sasusaku, Can'tContainIt, C. Holywell-Black, Dai Uzimaki, Echo1317, flygirl, Kira the Wolf, MafiaGirl14, MasaJeevas, MaskedAngel18, Mello's Yellow Jello, mima1216, moonfleur, Neckocat, OhMyGeePinkSucksAss, Ovalord of da Empia of cookies, -patterns-at-dusk-, RWolfe94, Sailormercury117 (your reviews are hilarious xD), Saya Hikari Uchiha, ShadowedSerenity, shinigami777, VennaKitty, Who's There and YuukikuranxD ~ _

_Everyone else, you're in my heart! _

**Thanks so much for reading! Reviews are much, much appreciated.**


	54. Hello, L

**A/N: I really appreciate last chapter's response. So here's some random trivia: Taylor Swift and Mello share the exact same birthday. Year and everything. LOL. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note, Nancy Drew or anything else that's copyrighted; research taken from Wikipedia's _Education in England._**

**Note: This ENTIRE chapter (excluding the final line) is told in several chronological flashbacks. Beware of time skips (the line breaks) and subtle foreshadowing. **

* * *

**Chapter 54: Hello, L**

* * *

The St. Mark Orphanage was old, but it was a beautiful kind of old, like a castle. Rue Ryuzaki, the odd boy that had not left my side since our parents' accident, was absolutely right. On the outside, St. Mark's looked like a dream come true. I nodded slowly as I took in the sight of its striped lawns and warm red bricks. This castle would be our new home.

I loved it already.

Guilt immediately tickled my brain. Was it wrong of me to feel happy so soon after losing my family? Was I being a bad daughter? Was I disrespecting their memory?

"Too bad they're giving us separate dorms." The Japanese adolescent sounded mournful.

The brown-skinned woman that was showing us around gave him a reassuring grin. "Rules are rules. Of course, you can still see each other during meals and on the weekends."

Ryuzaki very sweetly returned the smile. When the lady glanced away, he rolled his eyes and swooped down to whisper into my ear.

"We'll play by our own rules."

* * *

There was an older girl in my room who was always waking up in the middle of the night, wailing for her mother. Everyone else had gotten used to it, but as a newcomer, I was unable to drown out the sounds of her grief. She was especially loud on Fridays.

Hungry and unable to fall asleep, I snuck out of the girls' dormitory and made my way down to the kitchens where I knew he would be waiting. This had been going on for a month now.

A silhouette was leaning against the shadowy bulge of the fridge. I could hear a faint slurping noise and I wrinkled my nose.

"Pipe down or we're going to get caught," I warned him before popping open the door myself. I carefully slid out a plate of cold cuts. My toes curled in pleasure in my slippers. For a few minutes, I could pretend that my parents were still alive, pampering me with midnight snacks.

My nocturnal partner-in-crime chuckled. "Not if I can help it," Ryuzaki said thickly.

* * *

Spit was flying and I was pushed up against the wall, clutching my head. A little boy was dashing away from the scene, reclaimed teddy bear grasped tightly in his fist.

"Spoilsport!"

I refused to cry out while the older girls' hands continued to yank at my hair. They were crafty; they knew how to attack without leaving telltale marks of bruises and scratches. Eventually, the three of them grew bored and left. That night, I broke into the arts and crafts room to nick a pair of scissors. The next morning, I was sporting a boyish hairstyle, one that was similar to Rue Ryuzaki's.

Ryuzaki pressed the issue until I told him of my not-so-heroic rescue of the little boy's toy. He gently chided me for biting off more than I can chew.

Later that week, my three tormentors found live worms crawling at the bottom of their rucksacks. Ryuzaki's eyes were dancing as we joined the small crowd that had gathered to watch and laugh at the shrieking girls. The Japanese boy hummed contentedly.

I shuddered but smiled anyway.

* * *

Ryuzaki avoided the other kids like the plague, so he always insisted that we do our studying in the library rather than the study hall. It was fine with me, as I needed silence to concentrate.

I learned more from him than I ever did from my teachers. He shoved lesson after lesson down my throat, which I swallowed up willingly and eagerly. While my peers in Year One were still stuck on the three classical states of matter, I had already moved on to bigger things, such as minerals and rocks. Science was Ryuzaki's favorite subject, and he was (strangely) determined to make it mine too.

He succeeded.

Soon, I was learning about the stars and galaxies, the sun and the moon. The Japanese boy took it a step further and relayed to me tales of the Eastern zodiac, myths of the night sky's celestial bodies. That was the best part.

I was fascinated with the stories attached to his Asian culture, especially since my mother had always kept her lips sealed about her own. The only thing I knew about her past was that her traditional parents had disowned her when she dropped out of school to open a restaurant, where she eventually met and fell in love with Elliot Shire, a touring businessman hailing from London, England.

* * *

"What was that about?" Ryuzaki wanted to know.

"That's none of your business," I squeaked, trying to keep the embarrassment out of my voice. I had just been called in to be evaluated by the school matron. After being poked and prodded, I had finally been declared to be a tad overweight. I would have my meals regulated and portions minimized from now on – or as the nurse had kindly put it, mini-sized. As if that made me feel any better.

The older boy huffed. "Whatever. So, are we still on for tonight?"

I perked up slightly. "You bet."

Food reminded me of my family, and now the orphanage was threatening to take that very link away from me. I refused to stand for it.

Suddenly, Friday became my absolute favorite day of the week.

* * *

"Ryuzaki?"

He smacked his lips. "Yeah?"

"How do you stay so thin?" I was grateful for the kitchen's cover of darkness; my face felt like it was on fire. I was too young to sound like I was fussing about my appearance, but _this_ was different. It was a matter of health.

There was a thoughtful pause. "Good genes, I suppose."

"Genes?"

"Ah, that's right… we haven't gotten that far yet. Well, they're what you get from your parents when you're born. For example, I got my nose from my father and bone structure from my mother. You," he gulped, swallowing another spoonful of what I knew to be his usual fruity goop, "have your father's eyes."

My lips parted in a silent _O_. "How about you?"

"I don't know," was his curt response.

* * *

The Japanese boy was completely obsessed with riddles, brainteasers and puzzles – Sudoku, in particular. Many of his weekend afternoons were spent in the computer lab, which only the older children had access to, generating grid after grid of numbers. Later, when he was finished, he would print out copies for us to try together. Looking at the gaping squares always gave me a headache, but I didn't want to disappoint my friend.

Sometimes we were interrupted by a few of his classmates who were seeking assistance with their maths homework. It would only take him a single glance to solve an equation, and another glance to scatter the deeply impressed masses. I was in awe of all the attention he received.

"One day," Ryuzaki insisted, "people will look at you like that, too. You just have to work really, really hard."

He also seemed to be pretty popular with the ladies. He received secret admirer notes on a weekly basis, which he chucked out after sniffing the lightly perfumed surfaces.

On Halloween, he received three anonymous Candy-O-Grams.

"As if. Not a chance. In her dreams." And then into the nearest rubbish bin they all went. I felt sorry for the pumpkin-shaped chocolates.

* * *

"_Give it air and it will live. Give it water and it will die_."

Ryuzaki raised his head from the decade-old paperback cupped in his palms. Nancy Drew was one of my favorite series, although some of the vocabulary was a bit advanced for my age. That was why I had the older boy read to me when he wasn't busy with his own assignments.

"I have no clue," I said sheepishly.

"Come on," he urged me. "It's quite simple."

"Give me a hint," I whined.

"Nope."

"You are _such_ a meanie. In more ways than one."

Our heads whipped around at the new voice. A gorgeous, curly-haired brunette was leaning against the bookshelf, fluttering her lashes at the Japanese boy. "May I borrow your brother for a sec, darling?" she cooed, obviously addressing me.

My eyebrows almost shot off my face. "Okay..."

Ryuzaki stiffened. "First of all, she's not my sister," he snapped, "and secondly, no, you may not. You just can't take a hint, can you?"

The girl turned bright as a tomato. Without another word, she turned on her heels and stomped away.

"Who was that?"

"A girl from my English class. She's the one who's been leaving me poems all month. To be fair, they weren't really poems, just plagiarized song lyrics." His nostrils flared in contempt.

"She's really pretty."

"_Pretty_ isn't good enough," he said calmly. "When you're older, you'll understand. Now, where were we?"

* * *

When I was called in to be re-evaluated by the school nurse, she was pleased to learn that I had grown an inch in height, while retaining the same weight as before. Mathematically speaking, my so-called diets were working. Boy, if only she knew my dirty little secret...

"Studying hard?"

"Mmhmm." I refrained from boasting about the gold stars that were now tacked up beside my name in every single one of my classes, save for physical education. Too bad hide-and-seek wasn't in the curriculum.

"An old patient of mine once said that using your brain is just as effective as exercising. What do you think about that?"

I thought for a moment. "That's interesting," I declared.

"Well, I think it's just plain silly." The bony matron gave me another once-over. "Anyway, I think I can trust you to stay on track. Behave yourself this Christmas, alright? God knows how much sugar goes into all those cookies and cakes and..."

I tuned her out as tears began to prickle my eyes. Christmas used to be my parents' favorite holiday; it had been good for business.

* * *

Decorations were popping up everywhere we looked. Sprigs of holly would be peeking out at us from every nook and cranny possible. There were strings of fairy lights, popcorn and berries twisting through the dining and study halls, classrooms, bathrooms, dorms, and even the playground outside, where the snow-draped baby firs stood twinkling underneath the moon.

The caretakers, teachers, nurses and kitchen staff were busier than ever. There were rumors swirling about the secret arrival of a certain special guest – _"Yeah, I heard that he was going to dress up as Father Christmas and hand out presents!" – _though the supposed jolly fat man had yet to be sighted.

The idea of a mystery guest was intriguing, of course – but we were more excited about indulging in the wonderful scraps that would soon be stuffed into the fridges and pantry. Bowls of mashed potatoes, boats of gravy, plates of turkey breasts, trays of cranberry and strawberry tarts, boxes of gingerbread houses...

But for now, we had to make do with the usual: jam for Ryuzaki and dinner leftovers for me.

"Someone's coming!" my accomplice hissed, and ushered me into the walk-in freezer.

We peeked through the window, teeth chattering. The kitchen doors swung open to reveal a lanky, shadowy figure. Swiftly but stealthily, it crept toward the fridge and stuck its head inside. The stranger's face was briefly illuminated by the inner light bulb; he had skin as pale as paper, and eyes as dark as ink.

We watched in silence as he rummaged through the shelves like a raccoon on the prowl. And then, just like that, he was gone.

"Well, well, well," Ryuzaki muttered. "Why, I never…"

"Do you know him?"

"Not quite..." He opened the freezer and we hopped back out. "I think I saw him talking to the librarian last week. He must be a new teacher or something."

* * *

_Quillsh Wammy cordially invites the following students to tea:_

_Year 1: Alexandra S._

_Year 2: Joseph E._

_Year 3: Tabitha N._

_Year 4: Patrick C._

_Year 5: Munro G._

_Year 6: Thomas K._

_Year 7: Sabrina D._

_Year 8: William Y._

_Year 9: Rue R._

_1600 hours, West Wing Lounge._

_Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year._

* * *

_"_What possible reason would he have for calling us here?"

"Wait, isn't he that stinking rich dude who opened this orphanage?"

"Not just this one, Sabrina. The librarian told me that Sir Wammy opened at least one in every country across the world!"

"Blimey!"

"Well, we _are_ the top students in our respective years," Ryuzaki remarked, trying not to look too proud of himself. So instead, he beamed at me.

All nine of us were seated in the lounge, waiting impatiently for the late arrival of our supposed host. I was dressed in my best clothes – a black long-sleeved dress that I had worn to my parent's funeral. Similarly, Ryuzaki was donning his only suit, the one that he had worn to the mortuary. His parents, on the other hand, had been cremated; there had been no service for those horrible drug-and-child-abusers.

The ornate door cracked open, and everyone immediately clammed up.

"I hate it when that happens," a soft voice floated towards us. It – he – sounded amused.

The person stepped into the room, pushing a trolley of desserts. Behind him was a much older man.

I recognized the elderly person straight away. There were portraits of him hanging in the nurse's office, as well as the study and dining halls. He was the man that my parents and their goodwill had practically died for: Quillsh Wammy.

A little cry of surprise escaped my lips when I turned my attention to his young assistant.

He was the mystery thief from the kitchen.

"You're all early," Mystery Thief droned.

A few people tittered, but no one said anything. We were too frozen with intimidation. Quillsh Wammy looked friendly enough, but his teenage companion was staring as down as though we were rodents. Although, in truth, he was quite the unsightly creature himself. His hair was ruffled, just as much as his offensive sweater and jeans.

St. Mark's founding father broke the silence. "Where are my manners? Welcome! I am Quillsh Wammy, and this is…"

"Lancelot. Like the knight."

Ryuzaki suddenly snorted beside me. Very carefully, he tipped his head in my direction, his mouth barely moving. "I don't trust this guy."

"Why would you say that?"

There was a flurry of activity as the dark-eyed person beckoned our group of fellow orphaned students to the cart of food. One by one, we shyly shuffled into a neat line.

"For one thing, he's lying about his name. It's really _L Lawliet._"

* * *

"_L!"_

The inhuman howl jerked me out of subconsciousness. For a moment, the world tilted as my brain hastened to readjust to the smell of damp and the sight of Mello's leather-clad body draped across a marble altar tomb.

* * *

**A/N: Allie will only be regaining her St. Mark's memories for now. It'll take much more than mental stimuli for her to recover her Wammy life (hint hint, nudge nudge). **

**As I have tried to portray, she had not been a natural-born genius like Near probably was (shown by his lack of effort, especially beating Mello without even trying), hence the elevated level of pressure that ultimately cracked her after B died.**

Special shout out: to akatsukifan who was first to review the last chapter! You're all-around an incredible reader :P

_Thanks to all you wonderful readers/alerters/favoriters; special thanks to the latest reviewers: akatsukifan, annee loves sasusaku, Can'tContainIt, C. Holywell-Black, flygirl, I Love Bleach, Kira the Wolf, LilPadfootChicky, MaskedAngel18, Mello's Yellow Jello, moonfleur, Neckocat, OhMyGeePinkSucksAss, Ovalord of da Empia of cookies, -patterns-at-dusk-, RWolfe94, Sailormercury117, Saya Hikari Uchiha, ShadowedSerenity, shinigami777, TheCatchingLightAlchemist, VennaKitty, Who's There and YuukikuranxD ~ _

**Thanks so much for reading! **


	55. Money, Money, Money

**A/N:**** Thank you for the great response last time! I was tickled when people called B cute!**

**Disclaimer:**** This is just a fanfic.**

**Note:**** The first part of the chapter is Near's side of the phone call from the end of Chapter 53. **

* * *

**Chapter 55: ****Money, Money, Money **

* * *

_"Near?__"_

"Matt," Near greeted his friend. The SPK leader did not fail to notice the absence of background noise on Matt's end of the phone line. Matt was in a secure, or at least isolated, location. "You're at The House now, I presume... or perhaps, L's resting site?"

_"__Yeah, we're here.__"_

Near gave a little hum of approval. "You're ahead of schedule. I'm glad everything is going smoothly for you. Now, it's vital that you don't let either of them out of the vicinity over the next few weeks. Understood?"

_"Mmhmm, sure."_

"Also, please inform Mr. Ruvie to expect several packages in a few days. I had Commander Rester mail them yesterday after Gevanni gave Allie the key. There are five of them in total."

_"I'll pass that along."_

"As for Mr. Mogi..." Near paused, puzzled by the cold sensation that had suddenly bubbled up inside his ribs. "He came through for you."

_"Oh?"_

"Mr. Mogi had Mr. Aizawa contact me when Light Yagami was drawn away from their Task Force headquarters. They were able to successfully retrieve L's name from the confiscated notebook. It turns out that _L_ was more than just his alias."

There it was again. A strange, foreign swell of... something that was most definitely not pride and triumph, as L's rightful successor had expected to feel. Apprehension? Guilt?

_"Oh really?"_

"His birth name," Near declared, "was L Lawliet."

So that was it. It was finally out. There would be no taking it back.

He barely heard Matt's next words; they sounded like muffled static to his ears. Near was too focused on the draining lethargy that was threatening to lower his eyelids.

_"It's all good. Oh, and Roger says hello."_

"Wonderful," Near murmured. "Well, until next time. Good-bye, Mail." He terminated the link and lay back against the floor, switching his attention to the Lego pieces surrounding the base of the Christmas tree like a miniature ring of carolers.

Near sighed, the annoyed huff a mixture of the teenager's impatience and current physical fatigue. He was tired of waiting. He was tired of running around in circles. As soon as Gevanni could confirm the absence of Teru Mikami's Shinigami - assuming that the notebook he had pulled out on the train was indeed a fake - he could concentrate on frying bigger fish.

More specifically, Kiyomi Takada.

Since Light Yagami had purposely arranged for X-Kira to use the notebook in public, Light was most likely expecting and intending for Near to stay on Mikami's trail. Unless Light had enough hindsight to factor in the possibility that Near would catch on that Mikami's train incident had been staged, there was no harm in humoring Light by pretending to be ignorant, while secretly deepening Halle's investigation of Takada.

It was a classic example of a never-ending cycle of reverse psychology and _what ifs._

One thing was certain: Mikami was Light's main decoy. For now, Near would have to operate under the presumption that Mikami's notebook would be the only one necessary to focus on in terms of the publicly announced judgments and killings, which were being precoordinated anyway.

And fake or not, Mikami's copy would be the easiest to get their hands on. Near would have Gevanni to deal with that later.

The SPK did not have enough manpower to deal with both Mikami and Takada. Even with Halle Lidner on the inside, it was already difficult - virtually impossible - to thoroughly pinpoint Takada of any suspicious behavior, much less incriminating action as a "Z" or "Y" Kira.

There was still time, though. Now that Mello was working alongside the SPK, Halle should be able to put her mind at ease and do what she did best - earn the trust of her enemies.

However, if she failed to uncover anything about Takada, well, then time for Plan B.

This was where his fellow successors would come in.

"Near?"

The Wammy prodigy raised his head off the floor to properly look at Rester. "What is it?"

His second-in-command anxiously tapped at his computer screen, which was currently displaying an offline spreadsheet listing all of the Special Provision's available assets.

"After the Demegawa incident, our airfares, the down payment on this building, Gevanni's car, our Christmas tree, your toys, and the Yamaha... our budget really took a hit."

"Money is not an object," Near stated. That had always been the Wammy mantra.

Commander Rester furrowed his brow, still concerned. "Are you sure that last purchase was wise? I don't understand what we would need it for."

"Let's just say," Near pronounced calmly, "that I was feeling a little festive."

"But now we only have eighty grand remaining of your inheritance..."

"And in due time, we shall use it all."

* * *

"L, can you hear me?"

I pressed my scarred cheek against the cold stone of my idol's coffin. Inside laid one of the greatest men to have ever existed on this current hellhole of a planet.

I had asked for a moment to be alone with L. Roger, Matt and Allie were now standing huddled in the far corner of the chamber, out of earshot.

"You're probably turning in your grave as we speak," I continued, inwardly acknowledging the fact that I was indeed conversing with a corpse. "But wasn't it you who had taught us that the ends always justified the means? You were the one who taught us that sacrifices were necessary to win the battles and end the war, remember?"

My question fell upon forever-closed ears. What exactly was I expecting? For L to suddenly pop out of the casket and tell me that everything was going to be okay? To congratulate me for putting both my body and soul on the line? A heaven-sent signal that I was pardoned by more than just my living friends?

"Did you ever have nightmares, L? Because I used to, before I taught myself how to lucid dream. They're sort of like second chances, you know?"

My throat went dry. Guilt and pride were definitely the two hardest things to swallow.

"_He_ was right. I've been much too reckless, and... and I admit that I did lose my way for a while. There, happy now, brat?" That was directed at Near, but he, of course, was thousands of miles away.

I touched the tomb, stroking and tracing the Celtic carvings with my fingers. "L. _L Lawliet... _I would do anything for you, anything to make up for what I've done. I would literally get on my knees and beg for forgiveness, if you were still alive, and if you could read my mind or whatever you angels can do, you'll know that I mean every word that I'm saying with all my being." I knew that it was all nonsensical blabbing; I probably sounded half insane.

"I'm not exactly Hero of the Year, but I... I loved you, L. And so did Near. We still do. All of us."

Again, no answer. I licked my lips. For some reason, they tasted salty.

"Is that enough for you?"

_Yes. I am so proud of you, Mihael._

I choked on my own breath. How I longed to hear those words for real; I would crawl over countless hot coals just for that, and burn a hundred limbs to match my face.

_Kid, I am proud of you._

They were the very words my parents used to speak to me, precious words that had propelled me to become the best son they could ever have or wish for, someone that would never fail to please them, someone that would never disappoint them with less-than-stellar results. Their pride had been worth more to me than all the physical awards and prizes put together - gold medals, trophies, cash...

My victories were theirs. Their glowing pride was mine.

It had always been like that, back when I was Mihael Keehl, _gifted boy _and _obedient child_, and not Mello, _second place _and _hellion_.

"I'd like to think there really is a heaven, and not just a realm for the Shinigami," I quietly professed, "because then you could put in a good word for me. Do you think you could do that? Wait, you're L. Of course you could. You could do anything."

_I could not defeat the one who put me here. _

"Don't worry," I whispered, scowling. "Near promised you Kira's downfall... and I promised you his fucking head."

_Language, Mello. Even the dead appreciate good manners. _

"Whatever it takes," I muttered.

But what if we couldn't? What if we all failed and there was no one left to go on? Although they had not explicitly said so, Allie's family back in Los Angeles was probably counting on me and Matt to deliver their adoptive daughter home alive and in one piece. At least now that we were in England and out of the lion's den, we were relatively and temporarily safe. We could breathe a little easier.

My hand drifted down to my hip, where my trusty pistol was tucked away, weighing me down in more ways than one.

_Well, no longer_.

I placed the gun on the floor, at the base of L's marble sarcophagus.

"L?"

_Yes, M?_

I smiled through the stinging grey mist, imagining the familiar synthetic voice resonating from within the altar tomb. How could a single syllable, a lone letter – _M – _mean so much to me?

"I apologize. For everything."

It was only when I was suddenly seized by the shoulders that I became aware that I was howling at the top of my lungs without even realizing it.

My three companions were now standing beside me. From behind his goggles, Matt's eyes glistened with unshed tears. His lips, drawn in a tight line, were trembling. In contrast, Allie was massaging her temples, as though my shouts had given her a migraine. Roger merely looked disturbed by my violent outburst.

"Let's go," Allie said hollowly, putting her hand on my sleeve.

"Don't you want a turn?" I asked almost crossly. Even if she couldn't remember him, shouldn't she at least _say_ something, no matter how small or insignificant?

To my utter astonishment, Allie shook her head. "No, Mello... I just can't deal right now," she mumbled, staring bleakly at the floor. "Maybe some other time."

_Oh, that's right… _I had almost forgotten that she had visited her parents just two hours ago.

Roger patted Allie's arm. "That's understandable, Alexandra. Let's head over to my office, shall we? There are more important matters to deal with."

Allie gawked at Roger. Matt inhaled sharply, scandalized.

"Excuse me?" I snarled.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean any offense," the old caretaker amended, raising his arms as though shielding himself from an impending attack, "but I do have something imperative to show you, and it concerns the three of you. Four, including Near."

_That _certainly piqued my interest.

"What is it, Roger?"

"L's will."

* * *

It wasn't long before we had emerged from the mausoleum and were rumbling up the slush-soaked pathway snaking through Wammy's forest. Muted sunlight trickled through the surrounding trees until the day resembled high noon again, rather than dusk. Roger drove slowly, although Mello was breathing down his neck.

We had to circle around the perimeter of the property to reach the garage. It was a standalone the size of a barn; hands down, it was the biggest and most luxurious garage I had ever seen in my life. Coming from Los Angeles and having visited Beverly Hills before, that was saying something. The garage was large enough to house five cars – Roger's ancient _Ben _along with four others, which I assumed belonged to the other staff members at this genius-rearing institution.

As the four of us trudged back down the driveway with our luggage, Roger's groceries and the fruits of his laborious downtown Christmas shopping in our arms, a vast field filled with playing children in the snow came into view.

I nearly dropped my bags in shock. My chest had begun to tighten painfully at the otherwise innocent and lighthearted sight, and for an agonizing moment, I could feel resentment and grief claw through me like a flesh-eating disease.

_Calm down_, I berated myself. _You can't possibly be jealous of a bunch of orphans…_

But I was.

Why couldn't I remember anything about _this _orphanage? All of my recollections so far had featured my parents and Beyond Birthday – and most recently, both Quillsh Wammy and L himself.

_Ghosts, _a voice in the back of my mind whispered.

There were still three gaping holes where Mello, Matt and Near were supposed to be – four, if I counted Roger. Why was it that I couldn't recall a single thing about any of my living friends? Not that it really mattered though, in the long run. The important thing was that we were together again, right? I shouldn't be hung up about the fact that while I was emotionally happy, I was still mentally incomplete.

_It's just not… it's just not fair._

"Allie, what's wrong?" Mello said gruffly, nudging me with an extended elbow.

"I'm trying to remember the things you told me about," I admitted. "But I can't."

"Funny," he muttered, tracking my gaze to the throng of children gallivanting across the playground. "I'm having trouble with the exact opposite."

The bitter longing etched into his scarred visage struck a nerve. I couldn't imagine why he would want to _forget _his childhood, which I was certain was more pleasant than our present situation.

"I don't understand."

"It hurts," Mello said thickly, "to think that everything could've turned out differently if I had stayed here… and… and cooperated with Near to build up a case against Kira. I've always struggled with whether or not I made the right choice in leaving Wammy's, trading my friends in for the Mafia, killing all those people…"

Mello had never delved into the specifics before. I was almost too afraid to ask, but with the way he was looking at me, it was as though he was expecting me to do so.

I obliged him. "How many were there?"

Mello's jaw clenched. "Too many. My henchmen did most of the dirty work, but technically…" Mello's eyes clouded over as his lips moved silently.

_One, two, three… eight, nine… thirteen… _

"And the SPK…"

_Eighteen, nineteen…_

"Stop!" I whispered. "I get the picture."

Matt appeared behind Mello's shoulder. "This guy's giving himself too much credit. Aside from the SPK, half of those victims were in rival clans, and it was Rod Ross who used the notebook, not Mello."

"There's no difference," Mello snapped. "I orchestrated their deaths, Matt – all for the sake of _experimenting _with the Death Note."

Matt shrugged. "All for the greater good," he offered. "If it weren't for you, no one would've figured out that the thirteen-day rule was a fake. No matter how much you're beating yourself up for it, that fact still remains. You did what no one else had the guts to do, mate."

"I tell myself that every day," Mello mumbled.

We were quiet for the rest of the walk. I managed to stop watching the children long enough to admire the looming building before us. _Wammy's House._ Cylindrical bell towers dotted the dark rooftop, though a solitary cross took the coveted position at the front.

According to Matt, who had gotten friendly with Roger during Mello's absence and was now scrupulously familiar with the orphanage's history, the structure was approximately six decades old and had been built from the ground up using Quillsh Wammy's architectural blueprints. Despite its old age, the doors and windows looked well-kept, unlike L's crypt back in the forest.

Roger was waiting for us at the entrance. There was a woman with him at the top of the doorsteps, and as we drew nearer, I caught the last strains of their conversation.

"…two-week warning?"

"Mister Ruvie, I am going out of my mind. These children are too much for me! They complain all the time!"

"I'm aware of that, but we need you!" Roger all but wailed. "Christmas is in _three_ days!"

The woman's fleshy jowls wobbled as she defiantly lifted her chin. "Well, I needed a raise. And I did not get one, did I?" She floundered down the stairs, brushing past us without so much as an _excuse me _or _good-bye. _

Matt looked startled. "Roger, who was that?"

* * *

**A/N: Any guesses, job-wise? Hint – her position can be easily ****filled by one of the three, for the time being. Hehe. Also, ****I have now put up a "relevant" poll on my profile. It's my first one, so feel free to check it out. Beware of possible spoilers, though.**

**Wishing an early Happy Thanksgiving to anybody who is celebrating it this week!**

Shoutout: to TheCatchingLightAlchemist who was first to review the last chapter! Thanks so much! To anyone who likes character-study fics as much as I do, I'd recommend her fic "9 Masks" :)

_S__pecial thanks to the latest __reviewers__: akatsukifan, annee loves sasusaku,__ anon,__ Can'tContainIt, C. Holywell-Black, __Dai Uzimaki, Echo1317, __flygirl, Gir the Ultimate, I Love Bleach, Kira the Wolf, LilPadfootChicky, MasaJeevas, MaskedAngel18, Mello's Yellow Jello, moonfleur, OhMyGeePinkSucksAss, Ovalord of da Empia of cookies, -patterns-at-dusk-, Sailormercury117 (glad you're okayish now!), Saya Hikari Uchiha, ShadowedSerenity, shinigami777, TheCatchingLightAlchemist, Who's There and YuukikuranxD ~ _

**Thanks so much for reading****; ****r****eviews ****would be, of course, amazing****!****  
**


	56. Dear Mello

**A/N: A virtual cookie to ****akatsukifan****, who was the only person to guess correctly! Also, my poll is still open for those who are interested. "Takada" and "Nobody, you're just bluffing" are in the lead so far!**

**Disclaimer: This is just a fan fic.**

**fNote: In the manga/anime, the plaque outside the orphanage says "The Wammy's House" – so I'll be using that and "Wammy's House" interchangeably. **

* * *

**Chapter 56: ****Dear Mello**

* * *

"She was our cook," Roger said glumly.

Matt rolled his eyes. "Ah."

"_Cook? _As in, singular?" I couldn't help but ask.

Roger nodded. "Yes. There actually aren't that many mouths to feed anymore, but even so, the children can be quite difficult to handle sometimes." He coughed, embarrassed. "It's been a nightmare trying to find somebody who's willing to stay longer than four weeks. Everyone usually quits after their first or second paycheck."

Mello let out a low whistle. "I had no idea it was that bad."

I was more than a little surprised myself. Judging from the size and physical condition of this place, and from the hefty inheritances that Near and Matt had received, I had jumped to the conclusion that Wammy's House was financially thriving.

"As you may or may not remember, we used to have a larger staff consisting purely of volunteers," Roger explained as we lugged our bags over the threshold and into the rustic building. My frosted eyebrows immediately thawed out, along with my frozen ears and lips. "Most of them took indefinite leaves after Quillsh died, only to never come back. Those who stayed began demanding pay for their commitment. I had no choice but to hire them on a salary basis out of my own pocket after distributing Wammy's fortune to the rest of the orphanages."

"That's your fault," Matt jokingly chided him. "I _did_ offer you some of my funds."

Roger's face puckered sourly. "I cannot accept that kind of money."

I grimaced. "Whatever happened to philanthropy?" I remarked, thinking of my parents and their last – not to mention unsuccessful – charitable mission.

"Kira happened," Roger answered wearily.

"But..."

"Light Yagami may be cleansing the world of the bad guys, but Kira has also been putting a lot of honest people out of work," Matt jumped in, a scornful frown twisting his normally nonchalant features. "Police officers, lawyers, magistrates – basically anyone who's involved in the justice system, including those in the military. Nowadays, everyone else is too concerned about bettering their own welfare to be truly benevolent, especially since Kira's starting to target those who aren't even criminals. According to Takada, anyway."

"_Apart from those whose existence itself is considered evil, people with an ability who do not use that ability for the good of society will also not be tolerated_," Mello quipped from memory. "Crazy, hypocritical assholes."

"The turnover rate at Wammy's has been climbing for the past five years," Roger said loudly in an attempt to block out Mello's foul mouth.

"You can't blame _that_ all on Kira," Mello muttered.

We swiveled our heads to observe the mob of rowdy children storming in from the snowy playground outside and trampling all over the absorbent coco mats placed strategically across the dark oak floor. Their noisy laughter filled the corridor and faded away as soon as the genius youths disappeared into their respective classrooms, leaving nothing but fluttering curtains and damp footsteps behind them.

"You don't like kids?"

Mello hesitated. "Not really…"

My hand flew to my chest. "Did you hear that?" I demanded. "That was the sound of my heart breaking."

Mello shrugged and smiled grudgingly. "Okay, the little buggers _can_ be awfully cute sometimes."

As we made our way through the labyrinth halls of The Wammy's House, I couldn't help but notice that both Mello and Matt were walking ahead with a slight spring in their steps, their booted feet rising and falling in a proudly synchronized march.

_Like two peas in a pod… no, two of the three Musketeers_, I thought delightedly. A warm sensation swept through me as though I had drunk a bowl of hearty chicken noodle soup.

"What do you think about the House so far, Allie?" Matt prompted.

"It's pretty nice," I said vaguely. _Nice_, however, didn't do it enough justice.

While the exterior of the orphanage looked as old as its age, the interior was well-furnished and comfortably spacious – and best of all, warm and clean. The hallways were painted in an array of cheery yet modest colors: peach, seafoam green, periwinkle and light yellow. I was getting pleasantly giddy just looking at the rainbow pastels.

The St. Mark's Orphanage, even in all its castle-like glory, had been relatively dull and strictly uniform compared to the liveliness oozing from the very walls of The Wammy's House.

I returned Matt's expectant grin. "Okay, it's amazing."

"Courtesy of Linda, I'm assuming?" Mello stopped dead in his tracks to study the abstract murals.

"She did it for my seventieth a few months back," Roger said fondly. "It's a bit over the top, but who was I to say no to a world-famous artist?"

We eventually reached the dining hall, which was much smaller and more formal than I had expected it to be. There were ten tables, with four brass chairs placed at each one. Corresponding white cloths were draped over the tabletops and suspended above the windows, giving the entire area a restaurant sort of atmosphere. One thing was for sure: the cafeteria at my school couldn't hold a candle to this one.

"Not much has changed in here," Mello murmured.

My eyes bulged. "What kind of food do you serve?" I asked, thinking of the limp salads, soggy pizzas and cold burgers back in Los Angeles.

"Soup, vegetables, pastries, fish, cake," Roger listed. "Anything and everything, really. Nothing special, but…"

The three of us followed the elderly caretaker into the adjoining kitchen, where we began to unload Roger's bags of groceries into the various fridges. Roger's back was turned toward us as he busied himself with rummaging through the cabinets. Every so often, he would _hum _and _hah_. On the tiled floor beside him, a pile of mismatched objects – ranging from sugar tongs to boxes of aluminum foil – accumulated and grew.

"So, how long are you staying at Wammy's?" Roger called over his shoulder. He sounded hopeful.

"As long as it takes," Matt replied, his tone intentionally mysterious.

"Could you be more specific?"

"Nah…"

"Are you planning on going back to Japan?" Roger pressed.

"Don't worry about it, old man."

"I'll need an estimate," Roger insisted, "as to prepare accommodations. You could've at least given me a heads-up, Matt."

"You ask too many questions," Matt complained. "A month, maybe? It depends on Near."

Mello's left eye twitched. "What are you looking for, anyway?"

Roger Ruvie finally emerged from his search, clutching a breathtakingly familiar leather-bound book in his hands.

"Here it is… the original copy." He slid it across the counter toward me. "Quillsh and L would've wanted you to have this back," he said quietly.

I cracked open the volume. My trembling fingers roamed over the inner inscriptions. "_To Alexandra, our loving daughter_. _May you one day share this with another loved one,_" I read out loud. I gingerly flipped through the tattered pages, taking note of the random scribbles in the margins.

_12/25/92: Alex's first Christmas! _

_Twenty-two clients today: buy more cinnamon sticks and eggnog. _

_Note to self: our neighbors' son is allergic to kiwi. _

To my surprise, the second half of the cookbook consisted of pristine sheets, appended by a piece of ribbon. Mello leaned in curiously to inspect the new set of handwriting. Unlike my parents' disjointed shorthand, it was neat and cursive, almost like calligraphy.

"I recognize that handwriting. It's Wammy's."

"You gave this to Quillsh the day you and Backup arrived, as a token of your appreciation," Roger informed me. "Up until the time of his death, he used it to record his own new recipes. Did you know that Quillsh was an aspiring chef himself?"

"No," the three of us chimed in unison.

Roger's eyes glinted behind his spectacles. "Our menus are based on your parents' recipes. After you and B, for a lack of a better term, _passed away_, L refused to eat anything that didn't come out of these pages or anything that wasn't served by Watari. You know, they both took your suicide attempt and Backup's death really hard."

"Oh," I said, dazed. I glanced down at the cookbook, suddenly realizing something.

"Did L ever think that I would find my way back here?"

Roger shook his head. "No. L was certain that there was a 98 percent chance that you'd retain your amnesia and a 1 percent chance that you'd regain your memories. He didn't account for your return in his last will and testament…"

At this, my shoulders sagged with disappointment.

"…although he did dedicate a rather large passage in your honor," Roger finished.

I brightened. "Then what are we waiting for? I want to see it."

* * *

Trailing behind Allie and Matt, I took my time studying Roger's office. In stark contrast to the Linda-graced halls, the room was a bland and quiet haven. It looked exactly the same as it did the last time I had been there five years ago, except for the addition of three chairs, which Roger had borrowed from the nearest classroom.

I couldn't help but feel like a disciplined schoolboy as I stiffly seated myself in front of Roger's desk. How long had it been since the first time I was called in here for wreaking havoc in the playground? Nine, ten years, perhaps?

Roger cleared his throat. "If you were wondering why I was unable to reveal to you the existence of this document until now, well…"

One glimpse of his mollified expression told me that he had been carrying this burden for far too long.

"Mello, L specifically addressed his will to _you_."

To say that I was shocked beyond comprehension would've been an understatement.

No, I wasn't just shocked.

I was pleased.

I gritted my teeth, forcing down the immature smirk that threatened to cross my face. Now was not the time for celebration.

"As you now know, L is dead – that is to say, I am dead," Roger began, reading off the sheaf of papers. "The one that is currently carrying my name is another. If you are reading this, it has been exactly three days since you received notification of my death, which in turn had been thirty days after my actual death. It has been thirty-three days since Watari's passing, and mine."

My heart sank. "Wait," I interrupted. "The message was sent right after I left the orphanage?"

"That's correct."

_Damn it, _I thought furiously. _Why… why couldn't I have waited?_

"Idiot," I growled, mentally kicking myself. _Idiot, idiot, idiot!_

Matt shifted uncomfortably but didn't say anything. It was obvious that he agreed with me.

Roger took a deep breath before continuing. "I wish to be buried close to home. It is more than likely that the Japanese Task Force will have arranged for my body to be sent to one of the public parks. I will not rest until my corpse is relocated to its rightful place, where it all began. Where _I _began – The Wammy's House."

Beside me, Allie shuddered. I couldn't blame her; the way L had put it, his simple request sounded quite morbid.

"Watari gave me more than I could have ever asked for – a roof, clothes, meals, and above all, the education and training that had made me who I am known or was known as. He was always by my side, like a father that I never had. And now that I think about it, I would not have made it this far if it had not been for him. I solved my first case at the young age of eight, yes, but I did not do it alone. I did not save the world single-handedly. I have always overlooked this glaring fact. Admittedly, I have taken Watari, a genius in his own right, for granted…"

Roger trailed off, his voice seized by emotion. Patiently, we waited.

"I have made many mistakes in my relationships to those I am closest with. Watching Watari go to waste, pushing my ambitions onto A, and last but not least, leading B into a two-sided betrayal. For that, I am sorry."

Allie's eyes were closed, as though she were fighting back tears.

"I know that it is much too late for this sort of apology, but it is something that I must get off my chest. You all must know where I am coming from. I was only _eighteen_ when Watari breached the subject of death with me, approaching me with the idea of selecting a successor, a protégé, who would be entrusted with my cases in the event of my failure. I was only eighteen when I was forced to start thinking how to go about picking those worthy enough to send to Wammy's House under its revised mandate: to produce heirs for my title."

_Eighteen? _I quickly did a calculation. A had been handpicked by L when she was five, B when he was thirteen. That would mean that L was a decade older than _I_ was.

A mere decade…

"The simplest method was to choose students with the highest scores from all around the globe – one from each of Quillsh Wammy's orphanages – under the guise of scholarships and highly specialized education in virtual isolation. Those who were willing enough to accept such conditions would be debriefed of the facility's true motive: to be raised to become my successor.

I did not like to travel and stray far from my home base, so I started with London's own St. Mark's, where I was immediately presented with a formidable predicament. After narrowing down the candidates down to three – the youngest, the eldest, and the middle – I directed Watari to pit them against each other in a simple three-way race as a sort of entrance exam.

The objective of the challenge was simply to match crimes to their committers, being provided with nothing else but the felons' mugshots. All of them were of South Asian descent; this was to prevent the candidates from guessing solely based on the perpetrators' surnames. This was to test their observation, research, and analytical skills. I was certain that, as children, they would not have come across such foreign news before.

It took Alexandra, the student from Year One, all but three minutes on the spot to match the names and crimes to their faces by using a crude form of profiling: physical stereotypes. It was a very bold and presumptuous method, but it was effective. Her answers were correct. Funnily enough, Munro, the student from Year Five, had initially attempted to utilize this approach. However, due to its discriminatory and unreliable nature, he had opted to search the Internet instead. His five-minute delay cost him his candidacy."

At this, I had to stifle a laugh. Morals, or results? That sounded like the embodiment of L's philosophy to me.

Roger adjusted his glasses. "When it was Rue Ryuzaki's turn to step up to plate, Watari and I were shocked when he calmly matched them all off the bat. He explained that he did indeed follow news of the East, and told us that we were silly to make assumptions about "brilliant" minds like him. Although he had this unfair advantage, I instantly took both a liking to the boy. He reminded me of myself.

However, so did the girl.

Alexandra Shire's determination impressed me. So did her loyalty to her soon-to-be-rival. It was obvious to me that the two of them carried enormous, if not matching, potential. I had no choice but to bend my own rules and take them both under my wing: my first two heirs, A and B.

Unfortunately, in the afterglow of my first accomplished search, I had overlooked the damaging effects of the competitive environment at Wammy's that they would be forced to endure in the years to come. I created two Atlases. I destroyed their friendship. I ruined them both.

And for that, I am sorry as well."

There was a very pregnant pause. I snuck a peek at Allie's face. Her expression was now unreadable. Was she acting unaffected on purpose, or was she trying hard not to cry, like I was?

"Now that the unpleasantries have been dealt with, I would like to attend to my eldest protégé, the one that calls himself Mello. The contents of my will in regarding the Kira investigation shall be disclosed only at his discretion."

I straightened in my chair as a jolt of adrenaline lanced up my spine.

Roger peered at me over the printouts. "The rest is written in Slovak, I believe..."

I grabbed the pages. He was right. As a precaution, L had opted to use my native dialect in order to ensure that only I could understand it. Ax and Beyond Birthday had been the only other orphans who had ever had a grasp of the relatively minor language, though incomplete and not very fluent.

_Dear Mello,_

_You must be wondering why I have singled you out. Well, the reason is quite simple. _

_With you, Near, Matt and all the others that came after you, I was careful not to make the same mistake as I did with A and B. One candidate per orphanage, I kept telling myself. But to this day, I am not even sure if we had been on the right track the entire time. _

_Some of the children, like your friend Matt, did not express even half the interest as those who had lost out during my inter-house selections. As for Near, he has only displayed his superiority through academics. Personally, I prize passion and resilience, hard work, and although it may sound strange, athletic prowess. It does, after all, show discipline and mastery of the self._

_You, Mihael Keehl, have displayed all of these._

_However, the only thing that disturbed me was your impulsive tendencies, as reported by Roger Ruvie. As a detective, one must remain collected enough to see an investigation through to the end. A clear head over a stormy heart, as I always say._

_That being said, of the three, I feel like you would be the one to most understand my motives._

_I have seen it in your eyes._

_While both you and Near had refused to question me during our open session that one time – yes, you know the one – and ultimately proved that there was more to you two than having the highest ranks, I was still afraid that alone, you would fail. Without the other, you would be vanquished into nothing. _

_Do not underestimate the power of working with others, Mello. That was my downfall. Working in the shadows was invaluable, but it cost me the trust of the entire justice system. _

_Now that I am dead, I clearly cannot choose whom to inherit my name as my protégé. But please be informed that I would not have hoped for anything more than for you to cooperate with others on my behalf. As the eldest of the two – three, if you include your underperforming friend – I hope that you can make the choice to swallow your pride, put down your arms, and equally share my legacy in order to defeat Kira. But this is your decision. Act wisely. _

_That is all._

_Best wishes,_

_L._

* * *

**A/N: 'Atlas' is a mythological Greek titan who had to support the weight of world on his shoulders. Another note: I looked into the origins of Mello's name, and the Czech Republic, Croatia, Slovenia and Slovakia were among the most prevalent results. Thus, I chose to make Mello Slovakian in this. **

**Haha, I decided to be nice about the cliffhanging this time! BUT…tis the season to be jolly. Hint hint, nudge nudge!**

Shoutout: to Dai Uzimaki who was first to review the last chapter! You rock.

_Special thanks to the latest reviewers: akatsukifan, annee loves sasusaku, anon, Can'tContainIt, C. Holywell-Black, Dai Uzimaki, Echo1317, flygirl, Gir the Ulitmate, I Love Bleach, Kira the Wolf, MasaJeevas, MaskedAngel18, Mello's Yellow Jello, moonfleur, OhMyGeePinkSucksAss, -patterns-at-dusk-, Sailormercury117, shinigami777, TheCatchingLightAlchemist, VeironBlack, Who's There and XxxWhiteRoselilly ~ _

**Thanks so much for reading! **


	57. Mistletoe and Monsters

**A/N: YAY! Sorry for the slight delay, my dad's birthday was yesterday (and the food was majorly awesome!). Plus it started snowing here this morning. Snowwww… **

**Disclaimer: This is just a fanfic.**

**Note: Contains excerpts from Volume 11, and alternations between Gevanni and Allie's POVs. Mello will be returning in the next chapter, don't worry! Also, the time difference between Japan and England during the winter is 9 hours.**

* * *

**Chapter 57: Mistletoe and Monsters**

* * *

"Mikami's talking to himself!" Gevanni hissed into the mouthpiece hidden in his lapel.

_Finally… _

_We got him. _

Rester's excitement could be heard clearly over the portable intercom. _"Talking to himself?" _

This was the moment they – Commander Rester, Near, and above all, Gevanni – had been waiting for. And in that moment, the rest of the world stood still.

"Yes, I wonder if he's talking to the Shinigami?" Gevanni mused, relieving the pair of military issue binoculars from being pressed against his eyes. The recording button had been switched on the moment Mikami stepped out into the open. "I'm too far away from him to hear what he's saying, but I've been able to film his mouth as it moves."

A mingling of pride and fear swelled within him. Ever since his recruitment in March, Stephen Loud had always been an excellent subordinate, one that always and unfailingly allowed himself to be wrapped around Near's little finger after some initial resistance. After all, who in their right mind would want to be bossed and tossed around by a teenager, genius or not?

Enter crucial lesson number one: _Near held their lives solely in his hands._

_Survival of the fittest_, Gevanni preferred to think.

Gevanni's observation and surveillance skills were top-notch; he knew every trick of the trade. Even Mello had recognized his invaluableness and spared his life in the Mafia-SPK assassinations back in October. But being an elite agent wasn't enough. All Gevanni had to do was to follow Near's instructions, and everything would continue to work out and go his – _their – _way.

_Failing is not an option_, once said the prodigy who never did.

In real time, the Japanese man had already left the bench and retreated back into the building, leaving Gevanni free to escape back downstairs to his car. _Next stop, Mikami's apartment_.

"Here's the footage. It's at the rooftop of the prosecutor's office where Mikami works, during a break," Gevanni explained as the video feed finished transferring from the binoculars to his laptop. "Here, he's saying something right here."

"_Play it again on slow,"_ Rester ordered.

With one hand on the steering wheel, Gevanni quickly rewound the clip. Lip-reading was not his forte, but the commander's.

"_Is…it…you…shi…ni…ga…mi?"_

_Is it you, Shinigami?_

Gevanni shuddered, involuntarily flooring the gas pedal as a result. He was still having a difficult time grasping the concept of the existence of the ethereal beings, especially when it had been Mello who informed them of such. But there was no denying it; there was one at the Japanese Task Force's headquarters, and possibly one haunting Teru Mikami, Kyoto's top prosecutor.

"_I see that you aren't commander for nothing_," Near remarked, praising Rester.

"He seems to have reacted to the piece of paper to the bottom right of him," Gevanni pointed out, not to be outdone.

Rester's commentary was calm and steady. "_Now he gave a small sigh_."

"He seems to be talking a little longer from here, so I'll zoom up to his mouth and put it on slow."

Mikami's face was frozen in a mask of serenity. His lips, however, told a different story.

"_That Shinigami," _Rester translated, _"ever since he handed me the notebook, he hasn't appeared."_

The following silence was palpable and confirming. Gevanni subconsciously likened it to being the last nail in his coffin. The speedometer on the car's dashboard jumped in sync with his heartbeat; he knew what was coming.

"_What I can deduce from this is that Mikami got his notebook from the Shinigami, but that Shinigami has not been with him since then. He must have mistaken the rustling sound of the paper for the Shinigami coming near him,_" Near stated.

"_Right. So there is no Shinigami possessing Mikami," _Rester said, echoing Gevanni's suspicions. _"Or maybe this conversation was staged, like the killing on the train?"_

"_Hmm, perhaps..."_

* * *

When my eyes snapped open of their own accord, it took me several seconds to register and recognize my surroundings. My present lodgings, a former teacher's bedroom at Wammy's, consisted of bland creamy walls and mahogany furniture. I glanced at the desk beside me, where a glowing LED radio display read _4:30._

I rolled over on my back with a groan. Now that I was up and painfully awake, there would be no going back to sleep for me.

Mello and Matt were most certainly knocked out cold in the rooms next to mine. I toyed with the prospect of waking Mello up with a steamy mug of hot cocoa. Or, even better, a steamy kiss.

_Nah_, I decided, smiling to myself. It was too early for that. Besides, Mello had to catch up on some much-deserved rest.

The last three days had been unbelievably hectic. Since our arrival at the orphanage, we had been holed up in the kitchen virtually from sunrise to sundown, baking and cooking up a storm for Roger Ruvie. There were breakfasts, lunches, teas and suppers to tend to, not to mention the holiday banquet that Roger had planned with the previous chef.

Much to Roger's amusement, Mello had been shocked that so much work and time needed to be put into preparing for Christmas, complaining that there were more important matters at hand, such as disciplining the children.

_Snot-nosed prats, aren't they?_

Beyond's familiar icy words speared through my mind like lightning.

_Shut up_, I thought furiously. For a fleeting moment, I could've sworn the bedroom had suddenly dropped in temperature. As a precaution, I pulled the blankets up to my chin protectively.

Nobody else knew who we were, which came as no surprise. Mello seemed to revel in his newfound anonymity, while I found it both depressing yet relaxing. Only a handful of orphans that had ever caught more than a glimpse of the reclusive nineteen-year-old known as Matt, once third in line to be L's successor, had approached us out of curiosity and suspicion_._

"_Matt…? Is that you?" _a bespectacled boy had asked during our first night here. _"Where have you been? The programming club misses its honorary member."_

Matt had simply grinned down at him, ruffling the child's dreadlocks. _"I've only been gone for two months, kid."_

"_You look different."_

Did he? I wouldn't know, though I had taken to studying Matt from the corner of my eye lately. His fair skin did seem a little paler than usual, which was accentuated even further by his maroon hair, which had finally overwhelmed its one-month-old brown dye.

"_Tch. It doesn't take much for a person to change, kid."_

I buried my face into my pillow, and immediately recoiled when something warm and wet squished against my nose. _Tears…?_ With a pang, I realized that I had been crying in my sleep. I lay there for a few more seconds before propping myself up and swinging my arms over the ledge of the mattress.

"_There was another who was to succeed L. His alias was B, Backup, or Beyond Birthday. He liked you...a little too much. And one day... on Christmas Eve..."_

Yesterday had marked the six-year anniversary of the attack.

I had done nothing to outwardly acknowledge it in front of the others. Roger, however, had gone out of his way to ensure that there was no jam on the menu for that day, and I had felt the boys' gazes linger on me longer than usual.

I had simply shrugged it off, pretending not to notice the extra attention. There had been no point in dragging down them down with me, not when we were all busy decorating the corridors using the orphanage's own homegrown pine trees, poinsettias, holly and – believe it or not – mistletoe. The parasitic berries had somehow mysteriously infected half of the pines.

"_We shouldn't let blessings in disguise go to waste," _Mello had remarked cheekily.

He had obviously been hoping to distract me from succumbing to any impending nervous breakdowns. Naturally, Mello's scheme had worked; my lips, ears, neck and collarbone were currently still tender from the extremely popular Scandinavian tradition…

And so Christmas Eve had been a somewhat uneventful day, ending with the three of us exhausted and covered in sweat, eggshell bits and flour, which was nothing different from Tuesday and Wednesday. We had spent all our breaks in between and after the designated mealtimes exploring Wammy's – its library and attic, in particular. Needless to say, we had discovered many interesting things so far.

I reached down and slowly slid a small, vintage metal trunk out from underneath the bed. My fingers quaked slightly as they skimmed over the chest's embossed plaque:

_PROPERTY OF A & B_.

* * *

"I'm at Mikami's apartment."

Gevanni paused, as though that could help him shirk the inevitable. Yet one hour after Mikami's lunch break, he had found himself walking into his enemy's personal lair and out again, his mind churning with new information – new ammunition for Near and whatever he was planning.

"I've counted two surveillance cameras at the door to his room from my position," Gevanni told the SPK chieftain. "I'm assuming that the security inside is even tighter, so even if I'm able to get inside, it's going to be hard for me to remain unnoticed."

"_I see. I guess it's only natural for him to be cautious._"

"But, when he's outside, Mikami just leaves the notebook inside his bag, so it's not that seriously guarded," Gevanni noted. "But I guess it would seem suspicious if he kept his guard up while walking around in public…"

"_Commander Rester, I would like you and Gevanni to research Mikami's behavior patterns as much as possible, and look for any opportunity that might let us touch the notebook_."

Gevanni's heart leapt to his throat.

There it was: the catch.

Rester sounded confused. "_I thought you weren't going to confiscate the notebook from him?_"

"_Yes, I won't use Mikami and the notebook as proof, especially with the prospect of it being a fake. The chances are that Mikami does not have a Shinigami of his own, but we can't be sure until we touch the notebook and then monitor Mikami for several days_…"

_We? _Gevanni wanted to shout. _We? You mean me. Just admit it!_

"_Of course, there is a possibility that Mikami does have a Shinigami possessing him, and that the Shinigami will tell Mikami that we touched the notebook and have him kill us. But even so, from all the observation so far, it's likely that Mikami's Shinigami is not very cooperative with him_."

"_And who is going to touch the notebook?" _Rester asked._ "Me or Gevanni?_"

"_Well, since you're his superior, I guess…Gevanni?_"

Gevanni restrained from rolling his eyes, as the webcam on his laptop was still pointed at his now-sweating face.

_I guess…_

…_Gevanni? _

What was the point of that split-second hesitation? It was obvious that Near would rather sacrifice Gevanni than his precious right-hand man. If the former elite FBI agent hadn't been wired to be so goddamn patriotic and loyal, he would've hated his infuriating boss with a fiery passion.

But he didn't, because he knew that _N – L? – _was synonymous with the greater good.

"_Listen, if there is no Shinigami possessing Mikami, then there's a plan that I would like to put into action," _Near said quietly. For a moment, Gevanni could pretend that Near's unruffled tone was meant to be reassuring and apologetic._ "But if there is a Shinigami, I'm going to have to make some changes._"

Gevanni swallowed hard. "V-very well," he muttered. "I'll start off by keeping a keen eye on Mikami. But what if the notebook turns out to be a complete dud?"

"_Mello has a backup plan," _came the swift response.

"Mello?" Gevanni repeated incredulously. "You mean to say that we would be relying on _him_ to deal with the real X-Kira if Mikami really turns out to be a fraud?"

"_Do you have a problem with that?"_

"I'm just surprised," Gevanni said hurriedly. "Isn't he in England with the other two?"

"_Yes, but what's your point?"_

Why would Mello run off to England if he had something planned? He didn't seem like the type of person who would drop everything for a Christmas vacation of sorts… But then again, he didn't seem like the type of person who would strike up a romantic relationship with another, either.

_Is Near bluffing? _Gevanni pondered.

_If he is, then why?_

"I'm just wondering," the SPK agent began, "but the key that I gave to Allie. Uh, what exactly does it go to?"

Although he had been dying of curiosity ever since Commander Rester had passed it along to him, Gevanni had been too courteous to remove the _A-_inscribed cap from the key head to see what was engraved underneath. He had secretly studied the teeth in his spare time while Allie Robinson had been asleep, something constantly nagging at the back of his mind, something that told him that he was overlooking the obvious…

"_What's with the long face, Gevanni?"_

"_I dunno." He awkwardly rubbed the back of his head. "Oh, what the hell. Merry Christmas, Allie."_

"…_was that so hard to say?"_

_The older man coughed. "That's not all." He reached inside of his jacket and produced a small leather pouch, which he handed to the girl. "Near told me to give this to you before we part ways. He said that you would know what it goes to." _

From the look of her puzzled expression, Gevanni knew that even Allie hadn't known what it was supposed to be for. So here he was, three days later, still fretting over the seemingly insignificant mystery that plagued him.

"Well?"

"_It goes to that which she would want most," _the SPK leader said cryptically. _"Oh, and Gevanni? Merry Christmas."_ And with that, he abruptly terminated the one-sided videoconference.

Gevanni gave a sigh of disappointment. Maybe he _was _too inquisitive for his own good.

Crucial lesson number two: _Never expect a straight answer from Near._

* * *

I popped the lid of the trunk open, wincing as the squeak of its unoiled hinges reverberated through the room. I switched on the bedside lamp so that I could see the contents better.

During our first night here, Matt had given us a tour of the attic, which contained heaps of long-lost treasures, including Mello's guitar – his welcoming gift from L – and a dusty, padlocked chest labeled with my initial and Backup's. Afterwards, we had dragged it down to my room, where I had stashed it beneath the bed so I could look through the stuff privately.

At first, I had thought that the key that Near had given me via Gevanni was meant for opening the chest, but it didn't even match the hole. The real key had been cleverly taped to the bottom of the vintage trunk, which I finally found yesterday before retiring to bed.

Nonetheless, I wasn't quite ready to share it with either of my friends.

Similarly, Mello had opted not to explicitly divulge his part in L's written will. Matt and I had not bothered to press for details; some things were just meant to stay confidential. However, from the way Mello's mouth curled up every now and then when he thought no one was looking, I suspected that his – _our_ – idol was responsible for his unexpectedly mellowing demeanor.

L had performed a miracle from beyond the grave, and Mello had received his gift, whatever it was, with wide-open arms. It was truly incredible.

Now it was my turn.

_Merry Christmas, Allie, _I thought wryly. I took a deep breath and lowered my hand into the gaping box, pulling out the first thing I touched. My breath caught in my throat.

It was a soapstone miniature.

The carving was intricately done, although I had no idea what it was. The handiwork was beautiful, but the actual thing looked to be a beast of some kind, one with dragon-like wings and a hideous, leering face. Icy tendrils of morbid fascination began seeping into my brain.

I set down the statuette on my bed and reached into the trunk again – only to pull out yet another monstrous sculpture, and another, and another and another, each one uglier than its predecessors.

Beyond was certainly good with knives.

There were thirteen small figures in total, and a single large one, all in varying shades of soapstone: black, grey, purple, blue and green. Delicately carved weapons, chains, skulls, cloaks, feathers, extra limbs and noses and eyeballs protruded from each grotesque creature like something out of a Frankenstein movie –

– _like something out of a nightmare! I can't get them out of my head, Alex._

_Stop it, Ryuzaki. You're scaring me – _

_I can hear them laughing at me wherever I go, loud, wild, shrieking, mocking, they won't be quiet! Listen closely, can you hear them? Can you see them? Can you? No? You think I'm making this up, don't you?_

_I don't know what to say – _

_They're horrible, and I'm like them. Just like them…_

_Who?_

_Oh, God… n-no… _

_What's wrong?_

_Please… d-don't… I wasn't supposed to tell anyone…? N-No, no, no, no! _

_What? What? You're freaking me out, Rue!_

_Alex, this… this will be our little secret, alright? Promise me you won't tell. If you do, they'll come after you and – _

_Who are you talking about?_

_The monsters, the Shiniga – _

"Allie?"

At the sound of Mello's groggy voice on the other side of the door, I quickly dropped the stone miniatures into the trunk and kicked it back beneath the bed, out of sight and out of mind, like Beyond's fading words.

I wiped my clammy hands on my pants. "Wait, I'm not dressed yet!"

"It wouldn't be anything I haven't seen before," came the sly response. The doorknob jiggled. "You're not hiding a younger man in there, are you? If you are, I'll slice his balls off."

"That's not funny," I protested, scrambling off the bed to unlock the door. "What's up?"

Mello jerked a thumb behind him, his sharp eyes glittering. "We're being summoned to the old man's office. Some packages arrived in the mail for us this morning. Roger said they're from Near."

* * *

**A/N: Holy Cheez-Its, the story has JUST reached 20,000 hits. Of course, that's partly because of all the darn chapters. Anyway, I love you all! There shall be much-awaited fluff in the next segment!**

Shoutout: to Dai Uzimaki who was first to review the last chapter; the best of luck on your blooming Mello/OC, Forever Falling :)

_Special thanks to the latest reviewers: akatsukifan, annee loves sasusaku, anon, Can'tContainIt, C. Holywell-Black, Dai Uzimaki, Echo1317, flygirl, Gir the Ultimate, I Love Bleach, Kira the Wolf, MafiaGirl14, MaskedAngel18, moonfleur, My Lipstick Tastes Like Jam, OhMyGeePinkSucksAss, -patterns-at-dusk-, Sailormercury117, TheCatchingLightAlchemist, VeironBlack, Who's There and YuukikuranxD ~ _

**Thanks so much for reading.**


	58. All I Want For Christmas

**A/N: ****First, I'd like to address two not-logged-in reviews that I have received since the last update.**

**1) **Lyric Lee: I see that you were only on Chapter 34 when you submitted your comment about Allie being "a stick in the mud" – have you read further and changed your opinion? It disappointed me to hear that you find her boring. Also, please keep in mind that becoming like a Super Saiyan L clone would be impracticable at this point, especially since I've been trying to shape her "second chance at life" into something both realistic and challenging (hence the adventure aspect of the fic), while having her share the stage equally with Mello. Thank you for your review, though; I'm delighted you like Matt and the plot.

2) Sailormercury117: Kissing under the mistletoe is the Scandinavian tradition in question. Thanks for your great review, it was quite hilarious. I'm flattered that you're talking about my fic with your friends; that's pretty amazing!

**Note: ****As this fic is essentially half an AU, I will be exercising some artistic license with the nature of Beyond Birthday's Shinigami eyes and his background. It's nothing too drastic, though.**

**Hmm, that was the longest author's note I've ever written. Yikes. Onwards!**

**Disclaimer: ****This is just a fan fic. I only own the OCs.**

* * *

**Chapter 58****: All I Want For Christmas **

* * *

Matt was already waiting for us downstairs in Roger's office. He was practically grinning from ear to ear, unlike Roger, who looked royally pissed about being woken up by a private courier at the crack of dawn.

"Good morning," Matt drawled, leaning lazily against Roger's desk and picking at a loose thread on his striped pajamas. "I was beginning to worry about you two. Did you guys get caught under the mistletoe again?"

I sneered at this. "Tch. We don't need mistletoe to get things going."

Matt's smirk widened as we exchanged high-fives.

Allie's mouth twitched. "As a matter of fact," she informed him, "we were just freshening up."

Matt raised his eyebrows in a suggestive manner. "After getting down and dirty, you mean."

Allie turned an endearingly indignant pink. "You perv."

Roger frowned in disapproval. "Nonetheless, I want those plants out of the orphanage by midnight, understood? I don't want any of my own charges doing anything inappropriate behind my back." He stifled a yawn, snorting loudly in the process.

"Too late," Matt said under his breath. He winked at us, wiggling his fingers impishly.

Matt had recently taken up teaching the orphanage's programming newbies all about the fine art of creating backdoors, or in layman's terms, secret and undetectable entryways into a computer system. If things went his way, there would soon be six midget hackers running around doing Matt's evil bidding. What a scary thought, Mail Jeevas with lackeys. My Mafia ways must have rubbed off on him.

"What was that?" Roger demanded.

"Nothing, nothing. You must be hearing things, old man. Go back to bed."

Roger gave us a suspicious once-over before nodding reluctantly. "If you need to contact Near, feel free to use my laptop. It's secure."

Matt looked ready to burst. "Not from _me_, it isn't," my partner-in-crime whispered.

"Did you say something?"

"Nothing," Matt replied cheerfully, his jade eyes twinkling. "We'll see you later at breakfast, alright?"

When Roger finally left, tottering away and mumbling something about needing coffee and cinnamon buns to clear his head, I turned my attention to the surprisingly goggle-less teenager. But then again, it was only five in the morning. "So, where are they?"

Matt hopped off the desk, revealing three tiny parcels sitting innocently on the table behind him. Each was wrapped in plain white paper and topped with a different colored bow: red, blue and green. Curiosity bubbled up within me. _They're awfully small..._

Matt handed Allie one of the packages. "Ladies first. Merry Christmas, Alley-oop."

Allie tore through the nondescript wrapping paper like I would with a candy bar whose brand I had never encountered before (seeing as I could legitimately rattle off all the confectioners currently listed on the stock exchange). Oh yes, chocolate discoveries were always exciting.

_Speaking of chocolate..._

My mind began to churn. I still had the Lindt bars that I had purchased in Yokohama; I had been saving them for the holidays for a very specific reason: the cognac filling. After all, no Christmas was complete without liquor.

I could be such a scoundrel sometimes.

"Oh my..."

I peered over Allie's shoulder at her exclamation of surprise. She was holding yet another small box, only this one was encased in forest-green velvet. My eyes instantly narrowed at the sight of it. "Go on, open it."

Allie twisted around to look at me. "Promise you won't bite?" she teased, gauging my reaction.

"I don't make promises I can't keep," I deadpanned.

"Hmm, I'll take my chances." She lifted the lid and quickly snapped it shut before I could see what it was. "Well," she declared, "it's not jewellery."

My curiosity skyrocketed. "What is it?" I asked, studying the two remaining gifts in Matt's hands. The other boy took the hint and passed me the blue-ribboned parcel, leaving the one with the red bow for himself.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours..."

I didn't waste another second. I ripped apart the paper, exposing a navy velvet case that matched Allie's own green one in size and shape. Beside me, Matt cradled a maroon one in his palms like a precious, freshly-picked apple.

"Remind me to add Megatron to my Boxing Day shopping list," he murmured, plucking a hand-painted figurine from the gaping box.

It was a finger puppet.

Of Matt.

Complete with red hair, yellow-tinted goggles, a cancer stick and everything in between.

"Near already has enough toys," I said irritably, already dreading the Mello-puppet waiting inside my own parcel. My lips curled up in distaste as I remembered my initial disgust upon watching the rubber figurines spill out of my rival's briefcase a few weeks ago.

"But Optimus Prime is his only Transformer," Matt retorted, beaming and waving his miniaturized duplicate at me. "You can't have fun with just one Autobot."

Allie nodded in agreement. "Every hero needs a villain," she quipped. She cracked open her case once again and whipped out a corresponding finger puppet of herself, the exact same one that had a lock of Allie's decade-old chestnut hair glued onto its squishy skull.

"_Greetings, Ax_!" Matt-puppet chirped.

"_Hello, Matty_!"

"Am I the only person here who still thinks Near is creepy as hell?" I growled.

Without further ado, I opened my gift. Instead of a blond, black-vested, rosary-wearing, gun-toting rubber toy, a row of metal teeth glittered up at me, mocking my incorrect presumption.

_A key?_

My eyes fell on the logo engraved into the centre of the key head, immediately recognizing the trio of tuning forks. _Oh, damn. _

_A Yamaha._

Something exploded in the pit of my stomach.

"...I take that back."

* * *

Mello looked like he had been hit by a bus. "Near got me a motorcycle," he continued, stunned. "A Yamaha, from the looks of it." He handed me the velvet case for a closer inspection.

"What?" Matt yelped, flicking his finger puppet to the floor. "No fair!"

"Shut it! You're going to wake up the entire orphanage!" Mello hissed, smacking Matt across the back for good measure.

A thrill ran down my spine as I examined the familiar ridges. The key's teeth were perfect matches to the very set that was currently residing in my cabinet drawer upstairs – and I had a strong, nagging feeling that if I had ever bothered to remove the _A_-inscribed keycap, I would have discovered the Yamaha logo underneath it as well.

I felt like kicking myself. It had never occurred to me to take off the cap. On the contrary, this whole time I had been searching for something that would be labeled with a gothic letter, just like my key – not to mention that I had been too focused on the trunk of childhood mementos stashed beneath my mattress for the past three days.

"A Yamaha?" I echoed, passing the box back to Mello. "Lucky you…"

_And lucky me, too, I guess..._

Near had obviously ordered Gevanni to give me the key in confidence – not in front of Mello, not in front of Matt – and the SPK agent had waited an entire week after our surveillance of Teru Mikami before doing so. Unless I was reading too deeply into things, those were blatant signs that I a) should keep it to myself and b) had earned it.

Why Near would give me a key to a motorcycle when I barely knew how to ride one was beyond me. _Maybe he thought it would be funny that I wouldn't have to hotwire any more of Mello's bikes again, in case I wanted to take it for another dumpee-crisis spin, _I thought sourly.

Then I brightened._ Maybe having twin keys was supposed to be some kind of romantic gesture_...

But why wouldn't Near want the others to know that I possessed a copy?

I lost my train of thought when I heard a shrill _beep_. I glanced up to see that Mello had fired up Roger's laptop.

"There's got to be a catch," Mello muttered, tapping away impatiently. "I mean, this is _Near _we're talking about."

"He's obviously nicer than you give him credit for. God, you're too paranoid for your own g–"

"No," I interjected, startling the rambling redhead. "Mello's right. Besides, what's the point of getting him a bike when he's supposed to be in hiding?"

"Well, we _did _publicly confront Kira on national television."

"That was just a scare tactic," Mello argued. "It doesn't really mean anything." His voice dropped an octave. "Neither does surpassing Near. Not anymore. It never should've mattered in the first place, anyway. I was just too blinded by jealousy to realize that."

There was a shocked silence.

"Okay, what have you done with the real Mello?" Matt finally squawked, seizing the blond man by the shoulders and shaking him vigorously.

"Why are you acting so surprised?" Mello snapped, shoving his friend away. "Everybody grows up eventually. And besides, we've been working together for what, four weeks now?" He flashed me a lopsided smile. "Not that it hasn't been the best month of my life."

My heart skipped a beat. "It's not over just yet. Don't jinx it."

"You're superstitious." Mello sounded amused.

"I'm supposed to be," I said defensively. "I'm in show biz."

"_Aren't we all?"_

Near's unfiltered, monotonous voice cut through the air like a blunt knife. We quickly crowded around the computer. Lo and behold, the streaming video was displaying Near himself, along with Commander Rester. They were both donning headsets and crisp flannel shirts. I couldn't help thinking that they resembled a father-son pair more than ever.

"You turned on your webcam," Matt marveled.

"_It's Christmas. I can make an exception for the few people I can trust in this world."_

Mello blinked almost guiltily. "So, er, Near… about the bike…"

"_I had it custom-made the day I arrived in Japan. There's an 88% chance that your old one has been stolen by now."_

"Yeah," Mello said gruffly. "I was thinking of replacing it myself, actually. Thanks, Near. I owe you one."

Near was quiet for a moment. _"And I owe you guys an update. Mikami, he…"_

We leaned forward interestedly.

"_He probably doesn't have a Shinigami following him, but we can't be sure until we touch his notebook and monitor both Gevanni and Mikami for a period of time. Preparations are underway to determine whether or not the notebook Mikami owns is a fake." _Near paused. _"I have reason to believe that he isn't the real X-Kira."_

All hell broke loose.

* * *

"What?" I barked, gripping the edges of Roger's desk in alarm. "But he has the Shinigami Eyes!"

"Plus Gevanni and I saw him kill a man on the train!" Allie exclaimed.

Near nodded. _"I have taken that into account. But based on what you told us about what happened prior to the victim's heart attack, there is a high likelihood that Mikami used his phone to pass along the person's name and face to another Kira – the real wielder of the notebook."_

"Shit," Matt groaned, massaging his temples. "So we're back to square one?"

"Not necessarily," I said slowly, taking a deep breath. _A clear head over a stormy heart, _I reminded myself.

L's wisdom would live on.

"If I were Light Yagami, I would be wary about expanding the number of people who know about the existence of the notebook. He doesn't seem like the type of person who would like to share Kira's powers. It must be someone he's already in contact with, someone who's also in contact with Mikami," I explained.

Near's pupils dilated with excitement. _"That's exactly what I thought."_

The blood drained from Allie's face. "There's only one person who fits that description."

"Kiyomi Takada," I gritted out. "But we'll need solid proof. Halle hasn't found anything yet, has she?"

"_No. The closest thing to progress that Lidner has made was uncovering the extreme extent of Light Yagami's holds on Misa Amane and Kiyomi Takada."_

"Misa Amane?" Allie jumped in. "What happened?"

"_Four nights ago, Halle witnessed an altercation between the two women. They were arguing about which one of them was _really _Yagami's girlfriend." _

Matt whistled, undoubtedly impressed. "A catfight, eh?"

"_They're both seriously infatuated with him. That can be a problem. They won't betray him that easily. No, he can control them as he wants…"_

"I'm not above resorting to torture, Near." Beside me, Allie turned even paler.

_It would be for the greater good, _I told myself.

"_That won't be necessary. When the time comes, containing Misa Amane will not be a problem. Mr. Mogi is on our side now, so we can count on him to cooperate. But getting to Takada, on the other hand…" _Near sighed, exhaustion warping his boyish features. _"That will be difficult."_

"Is _containing _a euphemism for _abducting_? Come on, Near, you can say it," I coaxed.

Near lowered his eyes in resignation. Then he raised his chin to stare straight into the webcam. _"I'm sorry."_

"Is this why you got me the motorcycle?" I pressed.

"_No." _

Near's steady gaze didn't betray his emotions, but Rester's forehead creased; a dead giveaway.

"You don't have to lie to me, Near."

"Mello," Matt began.

"Wait," I snapped. I returned my attention to the laptop screen, reveling in the fact that I was making Near squirm. "Well, well, well. I don't blame you," I purred. "I've always lacked the calm, and you, the action. Admit it."

"_It's true," _Near said softly. His voice hardened. _"You know, if you hadn't killed half my men afterwards, I would've applauded you for stealing the notebook from the Japanese police. It was quite the impressive feat."_

"Hmm," I droned, smirking slightly. "I can't take all the credit for that. I had the best underground engineers to help construct the missile and basements. And, of course, Ratt."

Near's nostrils flared at the mention of the deceased double-agent. _"In any case, you have more experience in that field than I. Care for an encore? Any objections?"_

Matt inhaled sharply. Allie looked ready to keel over. But neither of them said anything.

My body was already thrumming with anticipation. "How could I say no? We'll think of something, don't worry. Getting to Takada will be a cinch."

Near smiled.

_L would be proud._

"_We'll let you know when Gevanni has succeeded in touching the notebook," _my snowy-haired comrade intoned. _"Merry Christmas, everyone."_

* * *

**A/N: Well, that didn't exactly turn out as fluffy as I thought, but it had to get done. **

**I don't know about any of you, but I've always been unsatisfied by the lack of explanation behind Takada's sudden kidnapping. So…voila! **

**The REAL Christmassy fluff is coming next though, I promise.**

**On a lighter note, EARLY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO OUR FAVORITE GUN-TOTING CHOCOHOLIC HERO. Mello would've been 21 tomorrow.**

Shoutout: to TheCatchingLightAlchemist, who was first to review the last chapter. You're so awesome, and so were your Mello one-shots :P

_Special thanks to the latest reviewers: akatsukifan, annee loves sasusaku, Burning Moon of the Sky, Can'tContainIt, C. Holywell-Black, Dai Uzimaki, flygirl, Gir the Ultimate, I Love Bleach, Kira the Wolf, LilPadfootChicky, Lyric Lee, MafiaGirl14, MaskedAngel18, Mello's Yellow Jello, moonfleur, My Lipstick Tastes Like Jam, OhMyGeePinkSucksAss, -patterns-at-dusk-, Sailormercury117, TheCatchingLightAlchemist, VeironBlack, Who's There and YuukikuranxD ~ _

**Thanks so much for reading; reviews are much loved!**


	59. Dancing on the Brink

**A/N: Argh! I'm sorry for the longer-than-usual wait for this update! Friday was the last day of my office internship, Saturday was my friend's Christmas party, and I went to a Raptors/Lakers basketball game on Sunday (front-row bench seats, baby!). But the good news is that there's only FIVE MORE DAYS TILL CHRISTMAS.**

**Disclaimer: This is just a fanfic.**

**Note: Several relevant Death Note rules will be used to help explain the technical aspects behind Beyond's death and Alternative's survival, as well as future...events...HOWEVER, none of the characters are actually aware of these rules. They are solely for the readers' best interest.**

**Note II: Lime content ahead.**

* * *

**Chapter 59: Dancing on the Brink**

* * *

"_On the twelfth day of Christmas, Sir Wammy gave to me…"_

That evening found me lounging between Allie and Matt at a table in the dining hall, laughing uproariously at Roger. The old caretaker had been forced by several Wammy students to participate in their original rendition of _The __Twelve Days of Christmas _at the front of the room_. _Poor Roger had been stuck waving a conducting baton through the dozen lengthy verses, looking exactly like Ron Weasley trying to charm his feather to float.

_"…twelve teachers teaching, eleven puzzles puzzling, ten lads a-learning, nine limos driving, eight minds a-mazing, seven sleuths a-sleuthing, six gears a-lurching…"_

Roger accidentally dropped his stick. "Boo, you stink!" I hollered in his direction.

The old codger shot me an annoyed glare. I smirked. It felt good to mock people for the most innocent of reasons for a change, especially after an intense yet futile morning of plotting and scheming.

We had ultimately determined that we needed to obtain information regarding Takada's bodyguards, daily routines and scheduled events from Halle before proceeding with the actual mechanics. The problem was that getting into contact with the undercover SPK agent was virtually impossible at this point. NHN's annual New Year concert was coming up, and it was commanding all of her attention. Not only had Halle been entrusted with simple managerial duties, she had been placed in charge of Takada's male guards as well.

In contrast, the afternoon had been a whirlwind of pre-party activity. Roger had previously arranged for the teachers to host a Secret Santa gift exchange for each of their homerooms, and that had resulted in a bunch of hyperactive children scurrying up and down the halls chomping on candy, testing out customized skateboards, squirting homebrewed perfumes and setting off silent fireworks like there would be no tomorrow.

Christmas had always been Wammy's best-celebrated holiday before it had been tainted with Beyond Birthday's attack on Alternative. I hadn't stuck around long enough to witness its one-year anniversary; like Allie, this was my first Winchester Christmas in six years.

I would never admit it out loud, but I was glad to be back. I was glad to be surrounded by people that knew nothing of my crimes, and I was glad to be roaming the familiar halls, soaking in the scents of late-night coffees and hardwood floor polish.

"_Fiiiiive paperweights!" _

There was a collective intake of breath as the singers gasped for air._ "Four daily meals, three ink pens, two entrance tests, __and our old man, Roger Ruviiiiie!_" they chorused with finality.

I sprung off my chair to give the choir and orchestra clubs a standing ovation. Matt pounded on the table, hooting like a drunk owl. Enthusiastic applause shook the cafeteria as a red-faced Roger took a curt bow and hurried back inside the kitchen to tend to the dishwashers. When the cheers and jeers died down, everyone began tucking into their meals.

The banquet, a buffet-style supper, was fit enough for a king. The painstakingly-prepared spread consisted of potatoes and gravy, garlic bread, herbed pastas, honey-basted salmon, stuffed turkey, broiled chicken, fruitcake, tarts...

Allie poked at the turkey uncertainly. She and Matt had operated as sous-chefs under my command. Yes, I, Mello, gunman extraordinaire, harbored an unparalleled appreciation and skill for food preparation. Allie had always relied on her adoptive parents to cook for her, and Matt had never even bothered to learn how to crack eggs, let alone separate the yolks and whites. The hardcore gamer had always preferred to blow stacks of cash on room service and Chinese takeout.

"How's my cooking?" Allie asked tentatively.

I grabbed a drumstick. I bit into it and pulled an exaggerated face. "For starters," I replied between bites, "it could use more sauce."

"Maybe Allie needs some extensive private lessons," Matt said slyly.

"Not a bad idea. After all, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach."

Matt snorted. "Yours, anyway."

I was expecting Allie to laugh or pretend to scold us, but she merely stared at her plate in contemplative silence.

"What's the matter?" I asked, lowering my voice.

"Nothing," she sighed. "It's just that all this food...it reminds me of my mom."

"I see," I mused, setting down my half-eaten turkey leg. "Sunny?"

Allie frowned into the buttery heap of starchy pulp that was her mashed potatoes. "No, Monica," she clarified. She picked up her fork and stabbed it into her food. "She always goes all out during Christmastime, especially since it's just about the only holiday my sister visits for," she continued wistfully. "I haven't seen Amanda for half a year now."

"Then call them," I suggested.

"I… I dunno about that."

Matt nodded. "Well, you can use the phone Agent Lopez gave you. It's one hundred percent untraceable."

"That's not the problem," Allie mumbled, pushing her barely-touched plate away. "I'm afraid of getting homesick."

I took her hand in mine and placed it on top of my quilted vest. "Homesick? But this is your home," I said half-seriously, half-jokingly.

"Aw, dude!" Matt pretended to gag.

Allie managed a smile. "Thanks, Mello. I guess I'm just scared that they'll say something that might change my mind about this whole thing. I don't want to end up running out on you guys…again…" Her expression darkened. "I don't want to fail you."

"Don't say that," I demanded. "You never _ran out _on us to begin with."

"So you don't blame me for what happened between you and Near?"

Matt suddenly became very interested in his pile of chick peas. My chest tightened as I recalled the conversation I had with him last Sunday, the night of my twentieth birthday.

_"If A and B hadn't died, things never would have escalated the way it did between you and Near."_

_"That was five years ago, Matt. I was just a kid."_

_"Just because you turned twenty today doesn't mean you're not a kid anymore. You may be a man by society's standards, but to me, you're still a child – a child who isn't sure what he wants."_

_"On the contrary. I know exactly what I want. I always have. You, of all people, should know that."_

_"What I know is that back at Wammy's, the only thing you ever cared about was beating Near. And after A's suicide, your so-called rivalry with him spiraled into hatred. You changed, he changed, we all did! But you... you were the worst."_

I squeezed Allie's fingers reassuringly. "Of course not. Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Nothing in particular..."

"You're being paranoid," I told her. "It was never your fault. Now, I'm sure nothing will brighten up your parents' Christmas morning more than a surprise call from their lovely delinquent daughter."

"Fine, but _delinquent_?" Allie bristled. She cuffed me lightly on the head with her free hand. "I wouldn't be talking, Mello!"

* * *

_Death Note: How to Use it _

_LVIII _

x_ By manipulating the death of a human that has influence over another human's life, that human's original lifespan can sometimes be lengthened._

x_ If a god of death intentionally does the above manipulation to effectively lengthen a human's lifespan, the god of death will die, but even if a human does the same, the human will not die._

* * *

After dinner, I rushed upstairs to my bedroom and retrieved the MI6-issued phone from my dresser. I was determined to get it over with once and for all; if I ended up getting homesick, I would just have to suck it up and deal with it.

The phone picked up on the fifth ring. "_Hello there!" _

"Dad!" I said excitedly. "It's me –"

"_You've reached the Robinsons! We're not available to take your call right now, but please leave a message at the beep and we'll get back to you as soon as we can!_"

_What the hell?_

My heart sank and I terminated the call before I could hear my own pre-recorded voice imitate the beep. My adoptive parents never turned on the answering machine unless we were going out of town, which was a rare occurrence. Monica and John were old-fashioned and preferred not to depend on the latest technology, including cell phones and newer cars – hence our family's single clunky blue van. Not to mention that Amanda was also supposed to be in Los Angeles by now.

Maybe there had been a change of plans, now that I was gone. Maybe they had all gone on a family vacation, albeit it being well-deserved, without me…

I quickly dialed my sister's cell number. My suspicions were confirmed when her voicemail sang in my ear.

"_Hi, this is Amanda! I'm a bit tied up at the moment, so –_"

Frustrated, I tossed the MI6 phone into my duffel bag. If Amanda's cell was switched off, I couldn't even ask Matt to track her location. I slumped to the floor, willing myself not to burst out in tears. My only consolation was knowing that the Robinsons weren't actually MIA.

A quiet knock broke through my troubled thoughts. "Allie?"

"Come in," I called.

The door swung open; Mello entered and locked it behind him. My knee jumped at the sound of the diminutive _click_.

"You don't look so great," Mello murmured, hovering awkwardly above me. "How did it go?"

"It didn't," I said stiffly.

"What?"

"They weren't home," I explained, looking wistfully at my luggage.

What exactly had I expected? It wasn't as though the rest of the world stood still just because I was trotting across the globe with my friends, baiting and hiding from Kira. Life went on – of course I was aware of that. But for some reason, it hurt to think that my parents were still leading relatively normal lives while I had to apparently subject myself to Near's closet grudge and whims.

This morning's videoconference with the SPK mastermind was proof of that.

In that moment, I wished that Monica and John hadn't been so compliant in allowing me to move in with Misa Amane, that they had been more protective and less trusting of their so-called adoptive daughter. I wished that I hadn't been so naïve in thinking that I could make a difference, that I could finally forge my own destiny and live happily ever after.

The former wasn't totally inaccurate. It was the latter that would probably never happen.

"Did you try your sister's phone?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "It's not turned on. She only does that when we're – they're – vacationing," I said bitterly.

"At a time like this?" Mello pointed out incredulously.

"Yeah, well. What was your family like, Mello?" I asked, quickly changing the subject. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I winced. What if he had come from a terrible, abusive background? "I mean, were they good people? Do you miss them?"

To my relief, Mello cracked a smile.

"Yes. All the time," he replied gravely, kneeling down so we were at eye level. "But missing them doesn't hurt as much anymore. Do you want to know why?"

I nodded silently, overwhelmed by the intensity of Mello's ice-blue gaze. I had never seen the rogue detective that I had come to respect and love in a mere month look so serious before.

"You're my family now. You, and Matt…" Mello paused. "Hell, even Near. He's like the brother I've never had and always hated. Oh, is that a smile I see?"

_Near... _

I swallowed hard and gently knocked foreheads with the scarred boy. "Maybe."

Mello pulled my head closer to his until our noses were touching. "You're all that matters to me. And when this is all over, maybe we can…" He shifted slightly.

I glanced down in time to see Mello reach into the back pocket of his jeans. Images of Rick tossing me a box of condoms flashed through my mind.

I panicked and shoved Mello away.

Startled, Mello stumbled slightly and landed soundly on his butt. He stared at me, mouth agape. "Are you alright?" He propped himself up on one elbow, fished out a broken chocolate bar from underneath him, and waved it in my face. _Oh. _

I blushed, embarrassed but relieved. "Sorry. I felt a sneeze coming on," I improvised, crawling over to where Mello was splayed on the floor.

He rolled his eyes and chuckled throatily. "Remind me never to Eskimo-kiss you ever again," Mello drawled. He snapped off a piece of the splintered chocolate and placed it in between my lips. "It's your favorite. Cognac included."

"Godiva?" I asked playfully, swallowing the melting chunk.

Mello frowned. "What? Didn't you say that Lindt was your favorite?"

"You actually remembered!"

"Of course. I'm a genius," he murmured, leaning in to lick my bottom lip. The chocolate bar clattered to the floor.

I didn't want him getting in the last word. "You're not the only one," I said, my voice muffled by his warm mouth.

"Shut up." Mello slid his tongue in deeper, and I completely lost it.

A tingling heat tore through my body and I found myself kissing him back hungrily, responding more enthusiastically than I should have. Without even thinking, I pushed Mello to the floor again. He groaned loudly and retaliated by rolling over until he was on top of me, deepening the kiss and fisting his hands into my hair. My stifled moans seemed to egg him on. Everywhere he touched and nipped, and everywhere our skin met and limbs rubbed, seemed to be on fire. Burning, throbbing, perilous fire_._

Alarm shot through me once more and I squirmed slightly, trying to escape or at least get onto safer ground. Mello seemed to realize what I was doing and he gave a soft whimper.

"You don't have to worry about anything," Mello whispered, breathing raggedly. His normally sharp eyes were hooded and darkened with lust and expectancy, and his hair was a tousled, golden mess. Mello had never looked so beautiful or wild before; the sight of him unraveled and undone simultaneously chilled and heated me to the core. It was spellbinding.

"But…"

"I can control myself. I'm not a dog, you know." As if to prove this, Mello's erratic, desperate, wet, open-mouthed kisses became petal-light and steady along my neck. _Christ._

A hauntingly familiar combination of pleasure and fear seized me. An open hallway was one thing, but a locked bedroom was something entirely different. I squeezed my eyes shut and whispered, "I trust you, Mello."

I knew from experience with Rick Benson that if there were any words that could throw even the biggest horndog in the world off your scent, those were it: I trust you_. _Most effective high-school boy repellent ever.

"I know," Mello said solemnly, nuzzling my collarbone, "and I love you for that."

My walls crumbled; I relaxed slightly, wrapping my arms around the older boy's heaving torso. I stroked Mello's spine through his shirt as he trailed his lips down my arm. When he reached my hand, he gently sucked my wrist, the intimate action sending an unbearably addictive heat coursing through my veins. I moaned at him, and I could feel him grin against my rocketing pulse.

Mello's golden head shifted and suddenly his thumbs were hooked into the waistband of my dress pants, and his teeth were peeling up my blouse to expose my stomach. I froze, barely able to believe what we were doing.

Here I was, submitting myself to a person two years and one month my senior, yet, somehow, we were on the same conscious and subconscious level tonight, under the very roof that had first brought and united us together, divided and scattered us years later, and was now ultimately shielding us from Kira's disillusioned utopia. Nothing else existed except for this place, this haven of budding inventors, scientists, musicians, entrepreneurs, teachers and leaders.

And here I was, loving it.

My lashes fluttered as he started caressing my stomach with his slick tongue. With a jolt, I realized that he was attempting to trace the knife scar that I had received from Backup six years ago. However, the pale line was nearly invisible, so Mello soon gave up and resorted to planting kisses everywhere his mouth could reach, including my navel. His hot breath fanned over the skin of my belly. I shuddered and hissed, physically aching for more but mentally screaming for less.

"D-Don't…"

The whine died in my throat when Mello yanked my shirt back down.

"Don't what?" he panted, pressing our fully-clothed hips together and slowly grinding himself in between my legs. I gasped at the new and unexpected contact, whimpering each time he rolled upwards against my pelvis. I could feel _everything_. Mello was upping the stakes, and I was too intoxicated to stop him. He was hard, so very hard, and I liked it. I liked what I was doing to him, and I especially liked the idea that I had such a powerful effect on such a powerful person, the idea that we were dancing on the brink and resisting temptation at the same time.

I was liking it too damn much.

Mello thrust forward purposefully. "Don't _what_, Allie?" he growled above me. "I'm not doing anything you don't want, sweetheart." Another thrust. My eyes rolled back in pleasure.

I grabbed him by the elbows. Mello was a tease, but he was a hell of a good one at that.

"_Don't stop…" _

* * *

**A/N: Oops, did I say fluff? That may have been an understatement. But anyway, I hope that was worth the wait. **

**I shall try to update one more time before Christmas. If I don't, I wish you all an early Merry Christmas!**

**Special mention: **to Kira the Wolf, who was the 700th reviewer! ODFLDSJFHVXCJHV! You have no idea how bowled over I am right now… I feel like exploding with happiness.

Shoutout: to YuukikuranXD, who was first to review the last chapter. YOU ROCK MY CHRISTMAS STOCKINGS.

_Special thanks to the latest reviewers: akatsukifan (ahh the government XD), annee loves sasusaku, Burning Moon of the Sky, Can'tContainIt, C. Holywell-Black, Dai Uzimaki, flygirl, Gir the Ultimate, I Love Bleach, Kira the Wolf, LilPadfootChicky, Lyric Lee, MaskedAngel18, Mello's Yellow Jello, moonfleur, OhMyGeePinkSucksAss, -patterns-at-dusk-, Sailormercury117, ShadowedSerenity, TheCatchingLightAlchemist, VeironBlack, Who's There, YuukikuranxD (XxxWhiteRoselilly) ~ _

**Thanks so much for reading!**


	60. Good Memories and Nightmares

**A/N: I hope everyone's holidays were (and still are) filled with much cheer and joy!**

**Disclaimer: This chapter is named after the final line of Mello's intro in the LABB Murder Cases novel.**

**Note: We have finally reached Chapter 60. SIXTY! Whew! Anyway, things shall be wrapping up pretty soon, my dear readers…**

**To any Naomi Misora fans – again, and I cannot stress this enough, I apologize for butchering the LABB Murder Cases for the sake of Beyond Birthday's role in this story. As you may have already realized by this point, I'm only borrowing B's character; I have basically been re-inventing the majority of his back story – hence the AU aspect of this fic. **

* * *

**Chapter 60: Good Memories and Nightmares**

* * *

The moment those words slipped past her lips, I knew that I had gone a step too far.

I had spent enough time in the company of Rod Ross and his prostitutes to know that even a simple lap dance could escalate to the point of no return in ten seconds flat, audience or not. I was treading dangerous waters here; it was all I could do not to oblige and strip the hormone-fueled teenager naked and dive headfirst into the incredible but temporary ecstasy the young night was promising.

But if I didn't stop now, if I didn't take responsibility, there was a very real possibility that Allie would resent me and herself for the rest of our lives. I couldn't afford to lose my head. I couldn't afford to lose her. I wanted to prolong whatever we had for as long as we could.

My gyrating hips slowed to a reluctant halt and I rolled off the younger girl, breathing hard as I landed on the unforgiving floor.

_Damn._

"Mello…?"

I pressed a firm finger to Allie's trembling mouth. "Shh…"

None of the rooms here at Wammy's House were soundproof for the sake of basic common sense, security and protection. Each student was indeed entitled to privacy, but their privileges only went so far. Obviously Wammy and Ruvie hadn't wanted any of their charges having wild, underage sex or unsanctioned parties under their roof and guardianship. While the dorms were free from camera surveillance, the thin walls were enough to dissuade any genius idiotic enough from attempting to indulge in any prohibited activities.

Including me.

Excluding Backup.

My heart was pounding in my ears, almost drowning out the sound of the after-party downstairs. The teachers had arranged for an indoor campfire by the fireplace, a well-loved tradition of the Wammy's House. Over hot chocolate and licorice allsorts, students would exchange tales hailing from their individual birthplaces, from practically every corner of the world, differences both revered and forgotten. It cheered me to know that this custom had still carried on in my five-year absence.

I twisted my head to the side, trying to catch my breath as I lay sprawled on the floor. I was instantly provided with a generous view of the underside of Allie's bed.

My brows furrowed.

Lodged between the frame and the floorboards was the metal trunk that Matt and I had helped drag down from the attic – _PROPERTY OF A & B. _And it appeared that Allie had already searched its contents. The padlock was gone.

"Interesting," I uttered softly, climbing to my feet.

It was the perfect distraction.

My evident arousal was now jutting uncomfortably against the front of my leather jeans, unabashedly begging for attention and relief. It was taking all of my willpower to suppress it. Better to be left high and dry than risking an unplanned pregnancy or a damaged relationship. God knew how many orphans in this very institution were testaments to that.

Allie's lazy smile faltered. "Did I do something wrong?" she asked, blinking rapidly. My chest tightened at the sight of the fervent pink heat spreading across her cheeks.

I shook my head, forcing down yet another strangled groan of desire. Her virginal yet not-so-innocent act was getting to me in ways that I never could have fathomed. My entire being literally ached to make her mine, completely mine, just as Beyond Birthday had tried to do six years earlier. It frightened the hell out of me.

I hated being at the mercy of such primitive urges.

Allie looked crestfallen. "Are you leaving?"

"Nope." In a flash of inspiration, I bent down and scooped her into my arms. Allie let out a yelp of surprise as I swiftly carried her across the room and dumped her onto the neatly-made mattress. "I just don't want to take any chances."

As if to contradict that statement, I plopped myself down beside Allie and draped an arm around her head, drawing her closer until we were nose to nose. I began to knead the back of her neck with my fingers. This was good. This was safe. Relatively speaking.

Allie's hazel eyes fluttered shut. "Then why are we on the bed?" she mused, blowing cognac-tinged chocolate breath into my face. "Pillow talk?"

"Kind of."

A comfortable silence fell over us as I continued my ministrations on Allie's nape, waiting for the massage to take effect. The younger girl's neck was tight with tension, as I had predicted. After a few minutes, I could feel her coiled muscles expand and relax, the stress seeping out of her entire body.

Allie suddenly grinned. "You know, Mello... you never finished what you were saying," she mumbled, keeping her eyes closed.

"Hmm?"

She nudged me. "_When this is all over, maybe we can…?" _she paraphrased, her questioning voice trailing where I had left off.

"Oh, that? I was going to suggest something absurd, like opening a candy factory or a shop, at least. And then we'll adopt a few puppies and they could be our brand mascots."

"Whaaat? That's so random!"

"Well, you know you're in love when you stop making sense," I quipped, leaning in to plant a chaste kiss on her jaw. Her grin widened.

"Thanks, Mello."

"Whatever for?" I teased.

She gave a contented sigh. "For keeping your head when I couldn't."

The irony brought a smirk to my face. "It's not your fault I'm so damn irresistible," I purred, applying more force as I moved my thumb down to stroke her collarbone.

"Huh. This is nice," Allie murmured, cracking open an eye to look at me. "The neck is one of the most sensitive areas in the human body, you know."

_Sensitive?_

_Vulnerable, yes._

My hand faltered in its rubbing motions as my mind flashed back to the rival Mafia boss that I had decapitated two winters ago in order to earn the trust of Rod Ross and his ring of minions. _The target. _I had never bothered to learn his name; everyone knew that nameless marks were the easiest to assassinate.

I had tracked him down through underlings that had sung like birds after a few amobarbital-laced drinks, identified him by the twin swastika tattoos that famously adorned the man's meaty forearms, waited until he had slipped out the emergency exit of a strip club, and ambushed him in the alleyway. My natural blue-eyed, blond appearance had confused him for a moment; the neo-Nazi skinhead had probably thought that I was a new recruit. That was when I had struck.

Locating his neck's pressure points and consequently snapping his spinal cord had been quite easy. Hacking through his tendons and ligaments using a butcher's cleaver had been fairly simple. Dumping his corpse in a creek that would freeze over the next day had been a no-brainer. Lugging around a bodiless head in a knapsack and not having the balls to shut its eyelids had been the difficult part.

Murdering gangsters was one thing; using them as meal tickets was another.

"Yeah," I finally responded, removing my fingers from Allie's warm throat. "Sensitive."

_What the hell, Mello? Ending Christmas night with murder on your mind isn't exactly normal, _a voice that sounded eerily like Matt mentally berated me.

_Well, look on the bright side. I'm not horny anymore._

"Allie," I began cautiously.

Her eyes became alert. "Yes?"

I crossed my fingers, hoping that my massage had done its trick; it was intended to relax her, ease her into a more compliant mood. Then I promptly rolled over, slung an arm over the edge of the bed and pulled out the vintage chest from its hiding spot. Allie winced when I heaved it onto the bed before us.

"Can I see what's inside?"

* * *

_Death Note: How to Use it_

_LXIII_

_No matter what medical or scientific method may be employed, it is impossible for humans to distinguish whether or not the human has the eye of power of a god of death. Even gods of death cannot distinguish this fact, except for the very god of death that traded his/her eye power with that human._

* * *

I arched an eyebrow at the mulish boy, knowing that he would have his way in the end, no matter what I did or say. It was impossible to say no to Mello – a sad but true revelation.

_Same went for L, _a distant voice prodded me. _And now, Mello…and Near…_

"Why?" I asked, stalling for time. The last thing I wanted was for Beyond Birthday's raspy baritone to fill my heart and head with terror-inspiring ramblings of "wild, shrieking, mocking" monsters when Mello was right here in front of me.

Azure eyes stared sadly back at me. I cringed inwardly.

_Is he… is he making puppy dog eyes at me? _

"I'm just curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat," I said lamely, stretching over Mello and making an unsuccessful swipe at the trunk.

"_I say only the cat died nobly," _Mello countered. His hand drifted toward the unpadlocked latch.

"Mello, wait! Let me…"

To my relief, he balked. Mello graciously leaned back against the headboard, giving me full access to the coveted chest emblazoned with Backup's initial and mine.

There was something strangely sacred and monumental about the whole thing. I hadn't had the chance to go through my own stuff yet, and doing so for the first time with Mello seemed like such an intimate gesture. I felt peculiarly antsy, like I was on the verge of taking off all my clothes.

"If it helps, I'll tell you what was in L's will," Mello offered gently, patting my knee.

I immediately felt a rush of guilt at his thoughtfulness. _He's so good to me._

"That won't be necessary," I replied, flipping open the lid.

The soapstone statuettes were right where I had left them this morning – scattered on top of the pile of clothes and toys that the rest of the trunk was crammed with. The carved creatures stuck out like sore thumbs, especially the largest of the bunch, the one that dwarfed its thirteen companions with its colossal spherical, double-skulled, four-armed body.

Mello's eyes, however, were immediately drawn to one of the smaller miniatures.

A strangled noise issued from his throat, and he snatched it up, scrutinizing the monster's face with visibly growing fascination.

"Are these yours?"

"No, they were Beyond's."

Mello nodded, his face suddenly ashen.

"What?"

"Do you know what these are?"

"Monsters," I answered uncomfortably, thinking of the memory that had plagued me since the morning. "Beyond used to hallucinate them, I think."

"Monsters?" Mello muttered agitatedly. His knuckles whitened around the grey and black figurine. "They're not your run-of-the-mill kind of monsters, Allie. These are Shinigami, I'm sure of it."

I almost stopped breathing.

"How do you know?"

Mello waved the so-called death god statuette in front of my face. A cloak obscured most of its features, and its round head was swathed in bandages. It resembled a cross between a mummy and a giant insect. "Allie, meet Sidoh."

"Sidoh?" I racked my brain for a few seconds and came up blank.

"He's the Shinigami that possessed the notebook that the Japanese Task Force exchanged for Sayu Yagami," Mello explained somberly, turning the Sidoh miniature this way and that. "Sidoh was the one who first alerted us to the fact that two of the rules written in the Death Note were fake – the thirteen day rule, along with the consequences of damaging the notebook."

"If that actually is Sidoh," I said slowly, "then that must mean Beyond really _had_ seen the Shinigami before. But how? Why? You don't think…"

Mello shook his head vigorously. "Nah, if B had ever come across a notebook, he wouldn't have had to resort to hands-on killings. He wanted to become the _world's greatest criminal_…"

He became very still.

"No," Mello whispered, realization dawning on his marred face.

"What?" I pressed, desperate to be enlightened.

"_River. Keehl. _Beyond knew our surnames," Mello gasped, dropping the Sidoh figurine onto his pillow in shock.

"Maybe he just hacked into the orphanage's files – "

"No," Mello interrupted. "Wammy's House never keeps files of their residents' past lives on record, electronically nor on paper. L used to store everything in his head, anyway."

"Oh," I said, baffled. "So what are you suggesting? That Beyond had somehow retained powers from the Shinigami?"

As soon as the words left my mouth, an icy sensation filled my stomach. It wasn't that far-fetched, now that I thought about it. Anything was possible when it came to death gods and supernatural notebooks.

Mello's dark gaze intensified. "More specifically, the Shinigami Eyes."

_The…Eyes?_

It hit me like a ton of bricks.

"_I am _so _sorry for your loss, Miss."_

"_Thank you. And yours, too."_

"_Don't be. Their time was up."_

I almost knocked the metal trunk over in my distress. "Oh, my God… I think you might be right," I whispered. "So Beyond Birthday knew all our names…"

If Rue Ryuzaki had possessed Shinigami Eyes, then there was a high possibility – 95% at least… no, _99.99%_ – that he had shared that piece of information with me in the past, back when we were still fellow successors on good terms with each other, before I had come to suspect that he had played a role in his "abusive" guardians' deaths, and as an extension, the deaths of my biological parents.

If Backup had possessed the Eyes, then he would've been able to pass the case-oriented entrance exams with flying colors.

If Beyond Birthday had possessed the power to see people's true names, it would make sense that he had told me them, which would explain why hearing my friends' real names had initially triggered my partial recalls two weeks previously.

But then that also meant…

"Beyond knew when his parents would die," I voiced out loud. "He had the ability to see their lifespans… and mine, and yours…"

What a burden to bear, to know exactly when a person was fated to die.

And if I had once known Mello, Matt and Near's names, I could only assume that I had also known –

_No, don't think about it._

_No, no, nonono…_

I wanted to throw up.

Mello nodded grimly. "Beyond Birthday," he mumbled, as if hearing the name for the first time. "No wonder he chose that nickname."

Our eyes locked and I knew that we were thinking the same thing. If Backup had never traded half of his life away for this power, nor had he ever owned a Death Note, that could only mean that a Shinigami had performed the deed off the books. Whether it had been a voluntary procedure or not still remained a mystery. But from the sounds of it, it seemed as though Beyond had hated the Shinigami.

"_They're horrible, and I'm like them, just like them…"_

Their existence and interference had doomed B from the moment he had been born.

But did that excuse him from his unforgivable crimes?

"…_we both know that your time is running out. You've marked it on that calendar of yours, I've seen it. Now, shall we make the most of it while it lasts?"_

A nervous tremor ran down my spine.

"I was supposed to die years ago, Mello. Backup told me so. But I didn't… I survived."

Mello frowned in concentration. "Maybe…" He paused, his scowl deepening.

"Maybe what?"

"I'd hate to say this, but I think Kira saved your life."

* * *

**A/N: I have a very strong feeling that I scared off a few readers last chapter…but anyway. The secret that you already knew about BB has finally been revealed, along with some, erm, foreshadowing. Hehe.**

**Hint: Last chapter's DN rule applies here, in case anyone is wondering how Light saved Allie's life. **

Shoutout: to TheCatchingLightAlchemist, who was first to review the last chapter! *gives milk and Oreos* :D

_Special thanks to the latest reviewers: akatsukifan (thanks for the amazing review!), annee loves sasusaku, Burning Moon of the Sky, C. Holywell-Black, Dai Uzimaki, flygirl, Gir the Ultimate (oh my, your review made me blush xD), I Love Bleach, Kira the Wolf, LilPadfootChicky, MaskedAngel18, Mello's Yellow Jello, mima1216, moonfleur, OhMyGeePinkSucksAss, -patterns-at-dusk-, Rachaelwashere, Sailormercury117 (LMFAO! That's major Mello fangirlness right there xD), ShadowedSerenity, Shy Rose24, TheCatchingLightAlchemist, VeironBlack, Who's There, YuukikuranxD (XxxWhiteRoselilly) ~ _

**Thanks so much for reading; HAVE A WONDERFUL NEW YEAR!**


	61. Break Even

**A/N: HAPPY BELATED NEW YEAR, EVERYONE! Huh, it's pretty neat how in sync the story timeline is with real life at the moment, or at least, almost in sync...*wink* **

**Disclaimer: I only own the OC version of A.**

**Note: Contains excerpts from Volume 11. Also, Mogi, Misa and the SPK make their long-overdue reappearances, yay :D**

* * *

**Chapter 61: Break Even **

* * *

In its entire 60-something year existence, NHN had never endured such commotion before.

Not only was their sixtieth annual New Year's music show featuring Japan's top idols Hideki Ryuga and Sakamoto Ryoma, the proverbial and soon to be literal spotlight was also trained on the previously-retired Misa Amane, who was slotted in for the opening act.

Amane's official comeback was a much-anticipated one; it was rumored that Misa-Misa was planning a big announcement at the end of her performance – something regarding the "self-bought" ring that she had been spotted in public with, perhaps?

But more importantly…

At the heart of it all was the specially-selected Kiyomi Takada. For this one, particularly glorious evening, security around the NHN studio was tripled. Audience members had to submit themselves to a pat-down in order to gain entry to the concert hall, VIP passes or not. Nobody minded terribly – it was understandable that Kira's goddess should receive the best protection from rabid admirers or, heaven forbid, rebels.

It was guaranteed to be an epic event.

Or it _had _been, anyway.

"Hey, take me back to NHN right away, you kidnappers! It's already past when I was supposed to be on stage!"

No response.

Mogi and his blonde charge were currently speeding down the roads in the backseat of a certain former CIA agent's armored car, leaving New Year's Eve's hype, media storm and celebrity frenzy far behind them. There was no doubt that many fans were up in arms by now about Misa's failed appearance.

Misa herself, of course, was positively livid. Flanked on both sides by two large, similarly-built men, she angrily balled her fists. "I've already been given the infamous name of the _Backout Queen, _you know –"

Mogi clapped a calloused hand over the younger woman's mouth. "Misa-Misa, you have to be quiet," the Japanese detective muttered.

"Motchi…" Misa scowled at him and Mogi reluctantly lowered his hand. "Why?"

"It's to capture Kira."

"To capture Kira?" Misa exclaimed. "But that's got nothing to do with Misa. A-Anyway, this is kidnapping, you know!" Her already squeaky voice rose an octave as she addressed the steely-faced driver. "Are you going to kill me or something? Who are you anyway? You keep getting in my way all the time." The last part was accompanied by a pout; Misa was clearly remembering how the American lady had violently ambushed her in their previous encounter.

Halle Lidner locked gazes with Misa in the rearview mirror. "I'm sorry, Misa," came the clipped reply from the front.

"If you're sorry, take me to NHN!"

Everyone ignored this. The blond man who had introduced himself as Commander Rester glanced over Misa's pigtails to look at Mogi. "Thank you, Mr. Mogi. I was going to go as far as putting a gun to your head to get you to cooperate, but you saved us a lot of time by not putting up a fight."

"There was no reason for me to do so," the Japanese agent answered. Aizawa was already cooperating with Near, who was in league with Mello, who Mogi had already decided to trust weeks ago as well. Throw in the fact that Aizawa had recently discovered that Light and Takada were communicating behind the Task Force's back by using their hotel room's notepads, and it was a no-brainer.

Mogi didn't want to admit it, but after six long, unfruitful years on the Kira case…

_There's no doubt in _my _mind_.

"Misa, we won't do anything to you as long as you remain quiet and calm. But you're going to have to forget about the show. Catching you two right after you left EBS was the safest method for us to get in contact, since there were no Kira worshipper bodyguards nearby," Rester explained to the fuming girl.

"But the public's not going to let you…" Misa trailed off, and to Mogi's astonishment, a sly grin spread across her face. "Oh well," she chirped, "I guess Kiyomi's angry at me again, but this'll teach her a lesson. She's lost face now as the host of the show!"

Satisfied, Misa slung her arms around the two men beside her.

Mogi would've laughed at Rester's appalled expression if it hadn't been for the professional instinct instilled in him. The last time that had happened, Aizawa had rewarded him with Misa-babysitting duty.

* * *

_"Now, there is something I must apologize to all the viewers for at this point. Unfortunately, Misa-Misa, aka Misa Amane, who was scheduled to start the show, has not yet arrived..."_

Kiyomi Takada's voice blared through the speakers as her concerned face filled the television screen on Stephen Gevanni's dashboard, conveying the message that Ayame Asaoka – winner of the grand prize at the CD Awards – would be taking Misa's place instead, with her smash single _Kira's Dazzling World_.

_Looks like Lidner and the others succeeded. _

The SPK agent pulled into a parking spot behind the Dai Kyoto Hotel and hurried into the building.

Now it was his turn.

It was just past nine when Gevanni retrieved his gym access pass from the front receptionist desk. Four days ago, he had contacted Near to inform him that he had joined Teru Mikami's gym in order to research his attendance patterns. To say that Mikami was a dedicated member of the Dai Kyoto's fitness club was an understatement; Gevanni guessed that the prosecutor had specifically picked a gym that was open year-round so he could use it during the holidays that happened to fall on Sundays and Thursdays.

New Year's Eve was no exception. Near had ordered him to seize this opportunity – while the second L would be distracted by Amane's confinement – to break into Mikami's locker and touch the notebook.

If there really was no Shinigami, as the SPK predicted, Near would be able to put his plan into action, and Mello, his.

But if there was, Gevanni would die.

He casually strolled past the weight room, taking note of the solitary Japanese man bench pressing inside like a well-oiled machine.

_Mikami…_

Gevanni entered the change room, which he knew to be free from camera surveillance. He swiftly made his way toward locker number nineteen, withdrawing a tiny pick from his pocket. He threw a wary glance over his shoulder as he fiddled away.

_Click click, click click, clack._

The door sprung open with ease. Gevanni brushed aside Mikami's trench coat and tended to the briefcase that was tucked at the bottom of the locker. The SPK agent was operating on pure adrenaline now; a bead of sweat dripped from his brow.

_Clickclickclack._

The attaché popped open, revealing a familiar black notebook nestled in its leather folds.

_If a Shinigami is possessing Mikami… no, if there was one, I'm dead either way by now. I may as well touch it._

With that dreadful idea plaguing his mind, Gevanni snatched it up.

"Gah!" he gasped out loud. His sharp eyes darted back and forth rapidly, searching for any sign of a Shinigami lurking in between the rows of lockers.

There were none.

_Good… I don't see the Shinigami…_

The SPK agent's heart rate gradually returned to normal, and Gevanni wasted no time putting the kanji-inscribed notebook back into its rightful place and hauling ass.

It was half past midnight when he made the call.

* * *

_"I have successfully touched the notebook."_

Commander Rester sighed with relief.

Near tilted his head, keeping his eyes focused on the Misa Amane and Kanzo Mogi puppets that adorned his fingers rather than the taut face of his youngest subordinate.

"_And I haven't confirmed the presence of the Shinigami yet." _On-screen, Gevanni consulted his watch. _"I touched the notebook at 9:09. Mikami returned home at 12:07, and I tailed him back to his house."_

"And during those three hours, you did not see the Shinigami. Is that right?"

"_Yes."_

"Then please to continue to keep your eyes on him."

"_Okay."_

Near switched off his microphone and abruptly turned to his right-hand man. "Commander Rester, please connect me to Mr. Mogi."

Live video images of the Japanese man and the former Second Kira flickered onto the multiple monitors before him. Near didn't bother greeting them.

"Mr. Mogi, do you remember about the rules of death when Higuchi was doing those death meetings at Yotsuba?"

Misa Amane's head snapped up at once. _"The rules of death? What's that? Sounds scary…"_

"_Yes, I do," _Mogi declared, looking straight at the camera. _"It's quite a while ago now, but…"_

"In return for information on Mello, I was told by the new L about the rules written inside the notebook, and about the rules of death. If a person is to die of an illness, unless it takes longer for that illness to progress, the notebook is able to control people for twenty-three days before their deaths," Near uttered, wriggling his fingers. Puppet-Misa and puppet-Mogi danced accordingly. "Is that right?"

"_Yes. It's not that we tested it out ourselves, but the killings at Yotsuba proved that."_

"Thank you very much," Near said, ending the one-sided videoconference.

The snowy-haired teen tugged off the finger puppets and scattered them across the tiled floor with the rest of his rubbery collection. He pushed the figurines aside until two remained at the center – himself and Kira.

"Then let us consider the possibility that there is a Shinigami possessing Mikami's notebook, and it has already told Mikami that Gevanni has touched the notebook, and Gevanni is actually being _controlled _by the notebook to lie about the lack of a Shinigami."

"Isn't that a bit…"

"No," Near cut in bluntly. "There is no such thing as playing it too safe. We must also assume that Light Yagami has expected us to pick up on Mikami's mechanical habits. He thinks that we are unknowingly playing into his hands, when in reality, we have no other choice to do so in the time being. We must continue this charade until we figure out where the real notebook is."

"But if Kira knows that we attempted to touch the notebook – fake or not – tonight, he'll know that we're planning a confrontation based on the twenty-three day rule. Correct?"

Near nodded. "Yes…" The young genius lifted his hand to his mouth to nibble at his knuckles, not caring that Rester was bearing witness to this rare, nervous habit. "So we are going to face L if Gevanni is still alive twenty four days from now…"

Rester held his breath.

"But I'm going to move the plan ahead under the assumption that he _will_ be alive," Near finished.

In a week, assuming that nothing changed, he would instruct Gevanni to proceed with the second step – studying the actual notebook, the victims' times of death, and last but not least, Mikami's writing patterns.

But X-Kira was only half of the problem.

There was still the _real _notebook to worry about – the notebook, Kiyomi Takada...

...and his friends.

* * *

Matt was in dire need of a smoke.

The restless gamer had attempted to give Roger the cash to purchase a few cartons, but no, the old man insisted for the umpteenth time that he couldn't, in good conscience, allow any more cigarettes on Wammy's property. They had absolutely no health benefits, whatsoever.

Wine and spirits, on the other hand…

"That's no good!" Matt groused, wringing his gloved hands. It was just this morning that he had discovered that he had already depleted his precious stock. "Alcohol does nothing for me."

"Then you're out of luck," Roger responded, filling his scotch glass to the brim with whiskey. "Cheers!"

"Cheers, my ass."

"Happy New Year?"

Matt threw up his arms in despair. "There's nothing happy about it! I'll just take your car."

"No! You are not laying a single finger on Ben."

"Fine, I'll call a taxi."

Roger huffed. "Where did we go wrong with you? I mean, you must be the only student that never took the drug awareness course seriously," he mumbled.

The Wammy graduate stormed out of the caretaker's office, stalking down the empty halls. It was only half past three in the afternoon, and all of the students were still in their classes. They were smart kids; it wasn't as though Matt would purposely try to get any of them hooked on this shit.

Honestly, it wasn't as though he smoked for fun, or to appear cool. Although, admittedly, Mello had once mentioned in passing that it did look that way.

Matt raced up the staircase, taking three steps at a time. Three was a good number, four wasn't. Four meant death…

_Ugh_.

Physically, he wasn't on edge yet, but mentally, he was bursting at the seams with anxiety.

"You guys!" Matt hollered, making a beeline for Allie's closed bedroom door. "I'm heading to town. Can I get you guys anything? Some snacks?"

The door swung open, and Matt's jaw dropped.

Crumpled up tissues littered the floor behind the miserable-looking couple, pouring from the overflowing wastebaskets. Matt's mouth went dry, and suddenly, getting a nicotine fix became the least of his problems. "Did I… did I interrupt something?" he inquired.

"Don't go," Allie exclaimed, seizing Matt by the arm and yanking him inside. "You're safe here!"

"Oi! Random much?" Matt wrenched his limb from Allie's grasp. "What's wrong with you?"

"It's more like, what's wrong with _you,_" Mello declared, shutting the door behind the confused gamer.

"Er…?"

"Sit down," Mello ordered.

Matt obliged. He kicked at the nearest pile of napkins to clear a spot beside the bed and crouched down. "What's up? I haven't been seeing much of you two these days. I kinda assumed that…"

"You assumed wrong," Mello said harshly.

"Dude, chill." Matt fidgeted uncomfortably. _Now _he was completely on edge.

Allie had been noticeably absent from the kitchen and the dining hall for the last six days, and so had Mello, who only popped in during meal times to bring up food for himself and the younger girl. Matt wasn't exactly dirty-minded, but he had entertained the notion that his two friends had been getting it on like Donkey Kong upstairs. Clearly, that was not the case.

"So, what have you guys been up to?" Matt ventured.

Allie tapped her temple for emphasis.

"Ah. Home sweet home is charging the old noggin, eh?"

"Well, sort of. But not in a good way," Allie said faintly.

For the first time, Matt noticed the dark rings surrounding Allie's eyes wasn't cosmetic shadow. On closer inspection, he realized they were eye bags.

"And why's that?"

This time, it was Mello who answered. "Beyond Birthday had the Shinigami Eyes, Matt."

Matt gaped at him. "What? Are you sure? How is that even possible?"

Mello shrugged helplessly. "I dunno. But you know what that must've meant, don't you?"

It took Matt four seconds to figure it out.

"He knew our names. And he knew when we were all going to die."

It took him another three seconds to realize the significance of that statement. Matt turned his attention to Allie.

"Just spit it out already," Matt demanded.

"According to Backup," said Allie, her voice low and shaky, "you're next, Mail."

* * *

**A/N: Absolutely no fluff and all business – and there was indeed a brief time skip after the Christmas "festivities", for anyone who hadn't caught that. As for the ending, please don't kill me!**

**Allie and Mello shall return next chapter with proper "explanations" – including the bit about Kira. I opted not to include their customary parts this time because it would be a bit weird writing in first person after Mogi, Gevanni and Near, and decided to use Matt for the first time instead. Yay, Matt (and yeah, he made a partial Mean Girls reference).**

Shoutout: to Kira the Wolf, who was first to review the last chapter! *gives Lindor truffles*

_Special thanks to the latest reviewers: AikoRose, akatsukifan (thank you again for another wonderful review :3!), Burning Moon of the Sky, C. Holywell-Black, Dai Uzimaki, flygirl, Gir the Ultimate (lol sanity is very important, yes!), I Love Bleach, Kira the Wolf, LilPadfootChicky, MafiaGirl14, MaskedAngel18, Mello's Yellow Jello, mima1216, moonfleur, OhMyGeePinkSucksAss, -patterns-at-dusk-, Rachaelwashere, Sailormercury117 (thank you so much for catching that typo! :D), Shy Rose24, TheCatchingLightAlchemist, VeironBlack, Who's There (that should answer your question :P), XxxWhiteRoselilly ~ _

**Thanks so much for reading! **


	62. Pressure

**A/N: I'm back at school now. Le sigh… The good news is that I have Tuesdays off. Yay! Anyway, Happy Multiple Ones Day! Hope you've made your wishes. **

**Disclaimer: This is just a fan fic.**

**Note: No more DN rules will be given as hints. Sorry! However, do pay close attention to Mello's theories. **

* * *

**Chapter 62: Pressure**

* * *

I had seen my parents: laughing and happy one moment, mangled and dead the next. I had seen both sides of Beyond Birthday: as Ryuzaki, civilized and calculating; as Backup, broken down and beastly.

I didn't know how much longer I could take it. As each chunk of my forgotten childhood returned to me, I could feel something else closing in, something creeping around the edges of my mind that somehow blocked me from concentrating on what was in front of me and filled my gut with lead instead.

How in the world was I supposed to focus on helping my friends with the next mission if I was _this_ distracted by what I secretly dubbed my "second life"?

I had originally considered my recovery to be the greatest thing that could ever happen to me. Now I knew better.

It was a curse, not a blessing_._

Upon realizing the possibility that Beyond had not only once confided in me the true names of our fellow successors but their death dates as well, I resolved to never fall asleep again, thus decreasing the chances of another long-lost vision. Because, really, who would want to know when their friends were supposed to die?

Unsurprisingly, Mello was appalled by my stance and was determined to talk me out of it.

"Allie, don't be ridiculous. The world record for staying awake is eleven days."

"There's no other way around this," I insisted, punching the pillows for emphasis. "I don't want to remember anymore. I just want it to stop."

"At the expense of your health?" Mello demanded, glaring down at me in frustration. "That's just plain stupid. You know you can die from sleep deprivation, right?"

I swallowed hard. _There goes that idea. _"What about medication, then?" I suggested. "Is there anything that can prevent me from having nightmares?"

I had seen Internet ads for pills that could induce deep, dreamless sleep. But like most painkillers and sexual enhancement drugs, they were probably placebos. There was nothing like the power of suggestion to scam gullible customers.

However, that wasn't to say that there weren't legitimate products that could actually work. Where better else to find them than at Wammy's House, where several of its young residents could give professional doctors and scientists a run for their money?

Mello looked hesitant. "You mean… tranquilizers?"

I nodded eagerly. "Sedation could work. Do you think the infirmary has chloroform?"

"Chloroform?" the rogue mastermind practically bellowed. "Are you out of your mind?"

"I _will _be if I ever find out when you guys are meant to die. Mello, I'm scared!"

"And if I were in your position, I would feel the same way," Mello began. "But look at it logically. However long our lifespans were back then, those numbers most likely would've been altered by now. Kira got to Beyond Birthday before he could break out of prison to finish you off, which would've been the biggest blow B ever could've inflicted on L. That's what he was planning if Kira hadn't killed him, I'm sure of it. That's why you're still alive, Allie. Your lifespan _changed _because of the notebook, that's why your suicide attempt failed – you were actually supposed to die at the hands of another! You don't have to be scared of anything now!"

I let Mello's words sink in, but despite his well-intentioned reassurance, I suddenly realized that he had touched on yet overlooked a rather nagging fact.

"Then that would mean that _your_ lifespans would've been altered for the worst," I said bitterly. "L died prematurely, which automatically put you and Near next in the line of fire earlier than he'd intended." _Because Kira or not_, I reasoned, _the successors of the greatest detective in the world would be more vulnerable than ever to assassins and outside forces_. "The notebook didn't just indirectly lengthen my lifespan, but indirectly shortened yours as well. Near's was probably cut down more, being the technical L aside from Light Yagami."

Mello's eyes darkened. He took my hand in his and squeezed gently. "Perhaps. But nothing is set in stone."

"I don't want to take any chances. If it turns out that Beyond had specific expiration dates in mind, I'm going to go crazy, especially since it would be an _over-_estimation, now that L is gone. I can't take the uncertainty anymore! Please, Mello…"

His expression softened a fraction. "I'll go check the medical wing, but I'm not authorized to –"

"Oh, come on," I retorted. "Since when do you care about authorization?"

Mello glowered at me. "Since Ruvie took us in."

"Well then, maybe Roger can administer it for me."

Mello's face puckered in distaste; his scar grew even more pronounced than before.

"I'll be right back."

* * *

Fortunately, the infirmary was unlocked. I slipped inside like the seasoned thief I partially was.

The only reason I had agreed to do this was because I had recognized the desperation behind Allie's words – words that eerily echoed her last, written ones as Alternative.

"_I can't take this anymore."_

I couldn't even begin to imagine the mental trauma that Backup had inflicted on her by telling his superior but pre-pubertal successor that her own time was running out. Combined with the pressures of living up to L's title, dealing with the rise of Kira and the fear that her end was near, A had fallen victim to the agonizing cycles of an imaginary self-fulfilling prophecy and had taken matters into her own hand.

I couldn't let that happen again. Not on my watch.

I was rummaging through the bottles in the cabinets when something on the equipment shelf caught my eye.

An oxygen mask.

No, not an oxygen mask, but an anesthetic gas mask. However, instead of a full face covering like the one I had stolen from Chief Yagami to hide my visage from his men during the Mafia-hideout infiltration, this mask consisted of a transparent visor that allowed normal clear vision. Its breathing tube was attached to a small labeled canister that contained – surprise, surprise – sevoflurane and nitrous oxide, a common mixture better known as a form of sleeping gas.

While the inhalation valves permitted breathing in only through the canister of vapor, exhaled air would be passed to the surrounding atmosphere. This mask was not designed for prolonged use, but for convenience. Its main function was to make portable surgeries as easy as possible, a venture that Quillsh Wammy had been earnest about.

"Bless his soul," I muttered to myself, stuffing the mask into a spare medical bag. If only the genius inventor had also created something that could stop a supernatural heart attack in its tracks_. _

I glanced around the room and spotted a few more gas masks peeking out from the other shelves. _Good. _That way, it wouldn't be too noticeable that one of them was missing.

I was on my way back upstairs when Matt popped out of the dining hall, cornering me.

"Hey, Mels, what the hell? You shirking dish duty?"

"No," I said defensively, waving vaguely at the staircase. "Allie's waiting for me."

Matt eyed the bulging canvas tote bag suspiciously. "Waiting – what –_" _

The redhead suddenly smiled, looking like the cat that swallowed the canary. "Have fun, then," he chuckled. "Take all the time you need. Merry Christmas."

"Thanks," I muttered, "but I think _fun _would be a bit of an overstatement."

I bounded up the stairs, leaving a very perplexed Matt behind.

* * *

Day after day, Mello remained by my side, making sure that I ate every morsel of food that he brought up for me. Being put under left me slightly tipsy, so it was important that I refueled properly to maintain my nutrition. I was extremely grateful for Mello's assistance and company, even though I knew that he disapproved with my drastic method of coping.

"You're one to talk."

"I'm only helping you because I don't want to risk you overdosing!"

During the mornings and afternoons, we stayed holed up in my room, busying ourselves with exploring the abandoned personal effects of the former teacher's lodging instead of those stashed underneath my bed. Out of sight, out of mind.

I came across a drawer jammed with real estate magazines and furniture catalogues; I got the impression that the person had been itching to leave their teaching post as soon as they were able to afford their own place to live. Mello, on the other hand, discovered a loose floorboard that hid a few old boxes of cigars inside.

"Oh, contraband tobacco! Nice."

"Mello!"

"I'm just kidding. Let's save these for Matt."

"Well, better than cigarettes, I suppose."

At night, Mello would "tuck" me into bed – with the help of a little general anesthesia. He would activate the gas mask for me and leave it running for precisely ten seconds, which was enough to knock me out for at least seven hours. Then, he would check to see if I was still breathing properly.

Mello was no doctor, but I trusted him. He wasn't _M _for nothing.

Initially, we both felt guilty for abandoning Matt to deal with all the cooking himself, but apparently the kitchen was stocked with enough leftovers from the Christmas banquet to last an entire week. This left Mello free to keep a concerned eye on me while I was conscious.

"Just say it, Mello," I said one evening. "You don't trust me to be alone."

"I'm not going to deny it. I don't want to make the same mistakes that L did. Now, make your move."

Mello had also borrowed a few board games from the playroom downstairs, including Monopoly, Cluedo – the British version of Clue – and chess. I was never very good at any of these games, since I spent most of my time back in Los Angeles either helping out the Robinsons at the library or being occupied with the drama and theatre club.

I didn't have the energy to be offended by Mello's bluntness. "I hate chess," I grumbled instead.

Mello laughed. "It'll keep your mind sharp. Anyway, you used to be really good at it."

"Don't," I warned him, trying hard not to think about it. But of course, the more I tried to stop myself from thinking of it, the harder it became.

"Oh, now we can't even _talk_ about it? Allie, you can't hide from your past forever," Mello protested.

"I can still try," I responded, moving my knight in a horizontal L-shape to capture one of his pawns.

The blond man shook his head reproachfully – at both my stubborn statement and my move, I assumed – and immediately replaced my white knight with his black bishop.

Deep down, I knew that sooner or later I would have to face any possible extreme emotional backlash from the memories that I had yet to remember – triggered recalls that I now suspected to be engineered by the one who had offhandedly suggested that everyone reveal their identity as some sort of team bonding technique, the one who obviously valued Mello's life above mine.

Near.

This was all Near's doing.

The SPK leader gifted Mello the motorcycle in front of Commander Rester and Matt, while he had Gevanni pass along a spare key to me in secret. Mello was not allowed to be aware of the existence of a backup copy. There was no way I was misinterpreting or misreading Near's so-called generous gesture.

Near intended for me to take Mello's place should the situation arise that a fatal casualty could be prevented. Mello was the only one among us whose name had been exposed, which automatically put him at a higher risk of death by notebook.

As we had discussed Christmas morning, a minimum of two people were necessary to carry out the kidnapping – one to distract Takada's guards, and another to pretend to whisk Kira's spokeswoman away to safety. Unless Takada also had the Shinigami Eyes, Matt and I were shoo-ins for the operation. Mello didn't have to participate himself, but of course, he yelled himself hoarse about that. He would never stand for taking a back seat to us.

Near wanted to me to stop Mello from going out there; I was his ace in the hole.

_No, he's giving you the choice to do so, _a voice in the back of my mind argued. _There's a difference._

Near was testing me.

_Near's giving you an opportunity to redeem yourself. Are you going to step up to the plate, or fail like you already once did?_

On one hand, I understood where he was coming from. I was the one who had insisted on joining the Kira case with Mello, Matt and the SPK instead of pursuing the "normal" life that Wammy and L had previously arranged for me. I was the one who got in over my head by wanting so badly to prove myself, to compensate for the past. Duty had come calling and I had accepted it.

Who would I have been to choose otherwise?

In a sense, Near was doing _me_ a favor. Without even so much as a direct verbal instruction, he was giving me exactly what I had asked for: the chance to live up to my name and the title of L that all of us shared.

"I'm not getting any younger here," Mello complained, prodding me in the leg and jolting me out of my thoughts.

"Wha –?"

"Your turn."

I growled my displeasure and sent my queen flying with a flick of my finger, causing every piece in its path to skitter off the board.

"I win by default," Mello sighed, sweeping the neglected figurines into the box.

"Technically, I surrendered," I shot back, getting up to grab a change of clothes. "I'm going to hit the shower. Care to join?" I added as an afterthought. I already knew what his answer would be.

"Don't tempt me, darling," he called as I disappeared into the adjoining bathroom.

When I re-emerged from the shower twenty minutes later, Mello had a surprise waiting for me.

"What's this?" I exclaimed, perking up at the sight of his glittery attire.

"Mello the Marvelous, baby."

* * *

"Is this too much?" I asked, flapping my magician's cape obnoxiously. While Allie had been in the bathroom, I had run downstairs to borrow the costume and a few props from the drama room. I felt a bit like an idiot, but if Allie wanted a distraction, then she would be getting it.

"No, it's cute," she giggled. "I didn't know you could do magic tricks."

"Well, I'm not as good as Near. Actually, I learned this one from him a long time ago," I admitted, passing Allie a deck of cards. "Shuffle these?"

"If you insist," she replied, inspecting the cards carefully before doing so.

When she was done, I tossed the deck face down on the floor with a grand flourish, but not before using sleight of hand to check the very last card at the bottom.

_King of Diamonds. How fitting._

Next, I withdrew a plastic wand from the inner pocket of my cape and brandished it dramatically. "Now, I will predict not only the numbers, but their suits." I tapped the pile once and tucked the wand away.

Allie raised a doubtful brow. "Okay. How many?"

"You pick. Preferably, something between two and eight."

She thought for a moment. "Four."

"Four it is."

I pointed to a totally random card. "King of Diamonds," I declared, picking it up. I nodded deeply, satisfied.

Then I quickly pointed to another. "Seven of Clubs." Cue the smirk.

Then a third. "Five of Spades," I drawled smugly.

I made a show of choosing the last card. My hovering hand paused on top of the one that I knew to be the _real_ King of Diamonds. "Jack of Clubs," I announced, naming the previous selection before snatching the card up.

"No way! Let me see," Allie exclaimed, lunging for my hand.

I casually dropped the cards on the floor in all their correct glory. I could barely contain my laughter; Allie's childlike awe and delight was extremely amusing. I ruffled her hair affectionately. "Some things never change."

"What do you mean?" Allie said vaguely, checking the cards for telltale markers.

"Well…"

"Hmm?" She was all ears now.

"This was why you and Near got along so well," I explained, waiting for the pang of jealousy to hit me. It didn't come. "You guys spent every available minute in the playroom. He was the only one who could afford not studying all the damn time. It drove me crazy, actually."

Allie's eyes clouded over. "I see."

"No offense, I was more into books than girls back then," I added, trying to diffuse the unexpected tension.

It worked. Allie's mouth curled up into a natural grin. "Oh?"

"Not anymore, you can be sure of that," I purred, leaning in to kiss her neck, where the scent of soap still lingered. I withdrew swiftly before the younger girl could return the favor.

"Hmph," she huffed. "So, Mello, any other tricks up your sleeve?"

"In fact, yes. I learned this next one in the Mafia…"

Allie's jaw grew slack. "Are you serious?"

I made a zipping motion across my lips. "I've already said too much," I intoned mysteriously, producing a pocket watch seemingly from thin air and dangling it in front of us both.

"Hypnosis…? You're kidding me."

"Quiet," I commanded. "Now, I shall make you my slave."

Allie coughed, blushing furiously. "Yeah right."

"Look deep into my eyes," I crooned, steadily swinging the watch back and forth.

Now even the tips of her ears were bright red.

"Deep into my eyes," I repeated, holding her gaze. "Take a deep breath. Deep, deep, deep."

"For heaven's sake –"

"On the count of three, you will fall into a deep, deep trance. One, two…" I lowered my voice and adopted a slick underground Italian accent. "Three. Now you belong to me. You will obey my every whim. Capisce?"

When Allie didn't reply, I tapped her shoulder. "I command your attention."

"It's the Kira case, isn't it?" she whispered, keeping her eyes closed.

My stomach dropped. "Excuse me?"

"Of course. No, I just – you won't die." Her eyelids tightened. "What… what are you planning to do?"

"If you're talking about the kidnapping," I began, puzzled, "we're still waiting to hear from Halle. You know this."

"That's suicide."

"Huh? No it isn't. Halle is going to find a way to sneak away for a while –"

"I don't see the difference," Allie murmured.

I started to panic. "You're not making any sense. Snap out of it!" I ordered, but to no avail. Allie was silent for a brief moment, and then she resumed speaking again.

"Hello, B. Have you been eavesdropping on us again?"

I recoiled in shock at the sound of her suddenly cold voice.

_No._

I had done the unthinkable and had put her down under without meaning to. I had transported her back into the past, possibly back to the very moment that she had been repressing for the last five days.

_Crap. Allie's going to hate me._

I could do nothing now but watch and wait.

* * *

A ghostly pale face leered down at me. "You make curiosity sound like a crime."

"Intrusion of privacy is not tolerated at Wammy's, Backup."

"There are no secrets between us," the Japanese teenager countered. "How many times do I have to tell you this?"

"And how many times do I have to tell you that things have changed?"

Beyond Birthday spread out his arms angrily. "That's only your opinion!"

"Things are changing, B," I uttered, hurrying down the corridor. The older boy quickly fell in step with me. "Not just here, but outside these walls."

"_I'm afraid I'll have to cancel our next session, A. An important case is commanding my attention_," Beyond recited, word for word. "Kira, shmira," he sneered.

"You act as though it is not a big deal."

"It isn't," Beyond groaned, running a spindly hand through his unruly locks. I wrinkled my nose at this, remembering how well-groomed he was in our first encounter at our parents' morgue. L didn't seem to mind the impersonation, but I found it unsettling and disturbing, rather than flattering.

"Only a fool would think that way."

"Don't lecture me!" he barked. "Kira is a coward. From what I've seen so far, Kira's a coward, and not fun at all."

"Fun?" I rounded on him. "Murder is not supposed to be fun."

"I'm just saying, if I had _that_ kind of power, I would make it really, really fun…"

"Go to hell!"

"So tell me, Alex," Beyond said, switching tactics, "is your idea of fun making puzzles and card castles with that albino freak? Is Nate River a _fun _guy?"

I frowned but continued walking. Just a few more turns and I would be in the clear. L's current office was disguised as an abandoned classroom in one of the older parts of the labyrinth-like orphanage.

"Mail's a pretty fun guy, though. In fact, you have more in common with _him _than little Nate."

"What?" I snapped.

Beyond shook his head sadly. "Let's just say that you and Jeevas, well, won't make it past your teenage years. Pity, really."

I nearly stopped breathing. My hands trembled at my side. "That's not funny."

"I'm not joking, A. Might as well enjoy it while it lasts, eh?" Beyond snorted, clearly enjoying his idiotic rhyme.

I threw a punch that didn't land; B was more skilled in capoeira than I was.

"I swear on L Lawliet's mother's grave," he murmured, staring me dead in the eye.

I fled from him, clutching my mouth in horror.

* * *

When Allie's eyes finally snapped open, I knew at once that it wasn't good news.

I stroked her back as she pressed her face into my chest, sobbing silently.

That night, Allie didn't ask for the gas mask, so I returned it to the infirmary. It wasn't until the following afternoon that she told me what she had remembered.

Her voice was hoarse from disuse. "Backup said that Matt didn't have long to live. He said… he said that he wouldn't make it past his teenage years."

I swore loudly. "Shit. That can't be right. Matt's turning twenty in February!"

"I don't want to believe it," Allie mumbled, reaching for her millionth tissue, "but if our theory's accurate, then his lifespan would've been even more shortened after L's death. That's his maximum deadline, Mello."

I shook my head vigorously. "No, Matt never cared about L's title. I don't think his death would've affected _him_… but then that would also mean his numbers never changed… which brings us back to square one…"

Allie averted her gaze. "I don't think that's it."

I sat up straight. "You know something, don't you?"

Her cheeks flushed. "Yes."

* * *

"Spill!" Mello exclaimed.

"Matt made me promise not to tell you," I blurted out.

Mello was visibly simmering with rage, but was interrupted when Matt suddenly burst into my room screaming something about snacks.

But all I heard was this:

"_I don't want him to know the lengths I went and would always go, just for him. Mello may wear his heart on his sleeve, but I don't."_

Now I realized the significance of Matt's proclamation and how deeply his loyalty ran and had always run, from most likely the very beginning of their friendship in this very house till this very moment. He had been born and fated to be a patriotic soldier and friend, and this had doomed him.

_Did Beyond realize this? Probably not…_

But still, I clung onto that tiny shred of hope that Matt's fate could somehow be changed. Nothing was set in stone. _Nothing. _

When we sat him down and finally relayed to him the devastating piece of information, Matt merely blinked.

"Well then," Matt said grimly, "let's just make sure I won't be going down without a fight, eh?"

* * *

**A/N: Longest chapter so far! Eek!**

**In case anyone's interested or wondering how certain conclusions were made, Mello and Near's canon lifespans are displayed on my profile. As for why certain things are turning out the way they are, the only explanation I can offer for now is the Misa-stalker-Gelus situation. **

***zips mouth* **

Shoutout: to TheCatchingLightAlchemist, who was first to review the last chapter! *gives balloons*

_Special thanks to the latest reviewers: AikoRose, akatsukifan (well…maybe, maybe not! xD), AyameRose, Burning Moon of the Sky, C. Holywell-Black, Dai Uzimaki, Dark Blood Lust, flygirl, Gir the Ultimate, I Love Bleach, Kira the Wolf, LilPadfootChicky, MafiaGirl14, MaskedAngel18, Mello's Yellow Jello, mima1216, moonfleur, OhMyGeePinkSucksAss, -patterns-at-dusk-, Sailormercury117, shinigami777, TheCatchingLightAlchemist, VeironBlack, Who's There~ _

**Thanks so much for reading! Reviews would be magically delicious.**


	63. Divide

**A/N: Woot woot, I survived my first week back at school! One down, fifteen to go.**

**Disclaimer: This is just a fan fic.**

**Note: In canon, Light, Misa, Mikami and Takada are the only people who know that the Death Note can be used in "pieces" until Near discovers this at the very end.**

* * *

**Chapter 63: Divide**

* * *

"Alright," I announced, erasing the chalkboard for the third time that evening. "Let's go over this again."

This was met with a chorus of weary groans from one cigar-puffing boy and the Eurasian girl beside him, who were both perched on top of their desks like a couple of bored students. The good news was that Allie looked more at ease than I had seen in weeks; the anxiety that had visibly gnawed at her since mid-December seemed to have lessened considerably now that she was already over and done with the worst memories her childhood had to offer.

My mind flashed back to Sayu Yagami's pleasantly blank face, and I smiled bitterly to myself. Indeed, embracing one's fears was much more rewarding and liberating than cowering in shame. I could never be truly free, but still…

"Aye aye, Captain," Matt declared, throwing me a mocking salute. "Take it away."

Rolling my eyes, I proceeded to draw a fresh set of diagrams. Soon, the board was filled with roughly sketched maps and crisscrossing lines representing the different entry and escape routes that we had selected for our ambush.

I had called together an official team meeting immediately after receiving the long-awaited call from Halle, who had managed to temporarily escape bodyguard duty while Takada hosted the New Year's Music Show. It had been a few hours since Misa Amane's successful confinement, and according to the SPK agent, both Mogi and Misa were being very cooperative.

Knowing that Commander Rester had already brought her up to speed with Near's notion that Teru Mikami was just a decoy, I had informed Halle that we intended to take Kiyomi Takada – Y-Kira – captive and with any luck, we would discover the location of the real notebook before Near and the SPK could go face to face with Light Yagami and the Japanese Task Force. But in order to do so, we needed her help.

"_When?"_

"_As soon as Near gives us the green light. In the meantime, I'll need any available blueprints of the NHN studio, a list of Takada's security personnel and her entire agenda for January, no more questions asked."_

As a precaution, Halle had destroyed and replaced her phone's SIM card after forwarding the requested documents to me. Although it was unlikely that Takada's most popular and reliable guard would be suspected of a security breach, it was better to play it safe. She had understood. Similar to how Near was hiding his headquarters' location from her, the undercover agent knew perfectly well why I couldn't trust her with all the specific details of our scheme. She knew that if she ever fell under the control of the notebook…

…she would have to fall alone.

Matt suddenly let out a huge hacking cough, causing me to almost drop my chalk. I whirled around just in time to see a wad of spit whiz through the air and land neatly in wastebasket at the other side of the classroom.

Allie crinkled her nose. "I don't know whether to be impressed or repulsed."

"That's what she said," Matt quipped before pulling out his Nintendo DS.

"Put that away," I demanded, ignoring the throbbing vein in my forehead. "We have to make sure that we're all on the same page, and that there aren't any holes in our plan. Allie, you go first."

Allie squinted at the chalkboard behind me. "I'm sorry. I'm pretty bad with roads," she began sheepishly. "But I do know that I'm supposed to wait until the third traffic light off the highway to put on the ski mask. I forget the name of the street, though."

"That's fine – that's Matt's area of expertise. All you need to worry about is activating the smoke screen and hoping Matt can haul your asses out of there before the guards know what hit them. Right, Matt?"

As if on cue, a musical trill emitted from the gamer's gloved hands. He glanced up guiltily.

"Matt!" I yelled.

My best friend pretended to pout. "Come on, Mello. How could you begrudge a dying man some well-deserved playtime?" he asked, trying to sound lighthearted.

I didn't buy it for a second.

"How? I'll tell you how. Since I'm trying to save that dying man from actually dying!" I shouted, slamming my fist against the blackboard. "So stop screwing around! Stop acting like you don't care!"

The gung-ho smile that Matt had been wearing all day slipped off his face.

"I know that," he said softly, "but has it ever occurred to you that it's not that I don't care, but that I don't _mind_?"

"Matt…"

He barreled on, obviously determined to prove that his bravado wasn't just a front to keep us from agonizing about his sanity. "Having an earlier deadline doesn't change anything. Everyone here has an equal chance of dying… death has _always _been part of the equation. We have nothing – nothing new – to be afraid of. Yagami knows your name, Mikami knows Allie's name _and _face, Takada could have the Shinigami Eyes – my point is that I'm not the only one who needs worrying about."

"I don't think she does," Allie broke in. "If she did, all Mikami would've had to do was send her a picture of that man on the train. I'm almost certain I saw him texting, even Near thinks –"

Matt's gaze flickered to the side. "_Almost certain _isn't good enough."

Allie's cheeks flushed in defiance. "Isn't that contradictory? We're not even _completely _certain that Takada's the one carrying out the murders! Don't you think Halle or anyone else would've noticed her using the notebook?"

"A notebook is very easy to disguise," Matt pointed out calmly. "And besides, Takada's not guarded all the time. Surely she'd be smart enough to use it in private."

"Hmm," Allie said, unconvinced.

There was a sharp knock at the door, cutting short the exchange.

"_Is everything alright in there?"_

I strode over to the door and removed the chair jammed underneath the knob before opening it. "Hello, Roger," I greeted the old caretaker. "Just the man we wanted to see."

"Ah," Roger grunted. "Well, I heard screaming, so I just thought that I'd wait a tad bit longer…" He coughed awkwardly then asked, "So, how can I help you three?"

"Do you happen to know where we can get our hands on some sodium thiopental?"

Roger's forehead creased in bewilderment. "Pardon me?"

"Thiopental," I repeated impatiently. "It's a type of barbiturate. Or, if the science lab's stocked with the right ingredients, we can brew some ourselves."

Roger looked horrified. "May I ask what this is for?"

"It's better if you don't know," I replied smoothly.

The seventy-year-old man drew himself to his full height. "Mello, I cannot allow any illicit activities under this roof!"

"Funny," Allie piped up. "Near once said the exact same thing."

"That's because they're both sticklers for rules with sticks up their bums," Matt remarked, waving his cigar around to emphasize his point. "Nah, I'm just kidding. Everyone's cool in my books. Except for Kira, that is."

"And you! Put that out right this instant! What did I tell you just this morning? Wammy's House is a smoke-free institution –"

"Actually, Mello and Allie found these upstairs in one of the teachers' old rooms. Therefore, your argument is invalid." Matt took another slow, satisfied puff. Ten seconds later, a stream of perfectly circular rings floated over to where Roger was standing.

The caretaker sighed and simply sidestepped the offending smoke. "Let me rephrase that. Do you need help with anything that's _within_ the boundaries of law and reason?" he inquired.

I shrugged. "Nope."

"In that case…" Roger turned to address Allie. "Alexandra, I have news regarding your family."

Allie's eyes widened in alarm, and my heart plummeted to my stomach. Neither of us had mentioned the Robinsons since Christmas, since Allie's failed attempt to get in contact with her adoptive parents and sister.

We had eventually settled on the slightly comforting assumption that the Robinsons had gone into hiding after the fiasco at Allie's high school. Near's influence with the FBI and the public could have only gone so far; Allie's classmates, although unable to talk to the tabloids, probably hounded her parents for gossip. It was the only reasonable explanation for them to disappear without a trace.

But for Roger to spring this on us out of nowhere…

_It can't be good…_

…_can it?_

* * *

"They've been sighted in Shibuya," Roger continued.

"What?" I exclaimed, dizzy with relief. For one terrible moment, I had imagined another car wreckage, a heap of tangled metal and limbs belonging to those who had kindly taken me in after my alleged accident. _Thank God they're alive…_

"They're in Japan?" Mello exclaimed. "It can't be a coincidence. They're looking for you, aren't they?"

"I think so," I whispered, willing myself not to panic. John and Monica must have had tried calling my phone at first, which I had confiscated after Kyoto. As for switching off their own cells, they had probably eventually realized that someone could track them down that way, as Mogi had done with me and Mello. "Damn it! Why couldn't they have stayed out of this?"

"You can't blame them for caring about you," Mello amended.

"They're putting themselves in danger because they _care _about me?" I leapt off the tabletop and began pacing back and forth in agitation. "I shouldn't have used my credit card to buy those plane tickets. I should've just kept them in the dark!"

"They would've guessed, anyway. Anyone paying attention to the news would know that Kira is definitely still in Japan, especially after electing a Japanese native as his spokesperson," Matt said gently.

"If it helps," Roger interjected, "your family is safe. In fact, they're on their way to London right now. I'll be picking them up at the airport tomorrow morning."

I froze in my tracks, startled by his pronouncement. "Huh?"

Mello rounded on the caretaker. "How do you know this? Who found them?"

"Near, of course," Roger responded uncomfortably. "He told me to tell you that one of his subordinates spotted Alexandra's family attending a New Year's performance several hours ago, and that –"

"He has Matt and Mello's numbers. Why couldn't he have told us this himself?" I demanded, trying to keep the anger out of my voice. Deep down, I already knew why.

Near was avoiding me.

Without waiting for an answer, I shot Mello a pointed glance. "Put him on."

I gave Roger a nod of thanks, and he quickly slipped out of the classroom, presumably to return to his office. When Near finally picked up with an unsurprised, _"Hello?" _I gestured for the others to leave as well.

Mello and Matt departed wordlessly, closing the door behind them. I didn't bother to re-block it with the chair.

"Nate," I said stiffly, moving to the farthest corner of the room and cupping the mouthpiece to muffle my voice in case anyone was eavesdropping.

"_Alexandra. I assume you are now alone?"_

"Correct as always."

"_You say that as though it is a bad thing."_

"Let's cut to the chase, shall we?"

"_Spoken like a true heir," _Near proclaimed, his sarcasm not lost on me.

I had adopted a Head-Bitch-In-Charge tone in order to boost my own confidence and it seemed to be rubbing the SPK leader the wrong way. _Well, let him squirm._ "Why couldn't you inform me about my parents yourself? Are you trying to send me some kind of message? Are you purposely avoiding me?"

"_Ah, I…"_

I pounced, the words spilling out of my mouth in an impassioned torrent. "Don't make any excuses, Near. I know what you're trying to do. With the motorcycle key, I mean. You're trying to guilt me into talking Mello out of Takada's capture or at least have me take his place, aren't you?" I paused for breath; Near was quiet as a stone. "Well, it's not going to work. I barely know how to drive, let alone ride a bike. Besides, Mello has his heart set on getting firsthand revenge. Nothing's going to stop him."

Near sounded amused. _"You've been reading too much into it, Allie."_

For a fleeting moment, I allowed myself to be swayed by the freedom and reprieve that Near's statement had to offer. If it was true, if I was just overthinking things…

"No," I blurted out, "I'm not. You've been pulling the strings from the start. You used me to get to the others. It was you who triggered my recovery. But for what reason? To exploit me while my mind was at its most vulnerable? You never cared for me, did you? All you really wanted was to use me to cooperate with Mello and to protect him from dying!"

"_That's where you're wrong," _Near said sharply.

"So you admit that I was right about everything else?"

Near ignored this. _"It was a test, Allie. And you passed it."_

My blood instantly ran cold, then hot again. "What do you mean?"

"_Despite your suspicions about my less-than-honorable motives, you kept the key a secret from Mello, didn't you? You were able to read my hypothetical intentions without a hitch. You knew that the repercussions would be severe if Mello jumped to the same conclusions that you had. For the good of the team, you kept quiet. You're loyal to all of us and trust none of us at once, and I find that… commendable." _Near paused._ "Although, your imagination sure is as wild as it had been before. But that was what I liked so much about you, A."_

_A test? This was just a test?_

Although I had just proved myself to be doubtful of him, he did not seem fazed by it. In fact, the SPK leader had applauded me for my mistrust of him. I had always thought that loyalty and trust went hand in hand, yet…

L had been loyal to his goal of justice; he had been a dedicated servant of the public as a detective. But L had trusted no one completely – to do so would have compromised his safety, his beliefs. Trust could be broken, but loyalty left no room for debate. Loyalty that wavered was never loyalty at all. Loyalty not to an individual, but to a collective aim…

Near, interpreting my silence as acceptance, continued with his long-overdue explanation.

"_I must apologize. At the risk of costing you your mental stability, I was hoping that you would regain your memories in hopes that you could confirm my theory regarding Beyond Birthday – specifically, a rather strange ability that he seemed to have possessed."_

A jolt ran down my spine, and I had to lean against the wall for support. "So you knew?"

"_I suspected," _Near corrected me. _"On the day of my seventh birthday, you accidentally called me by my real name. You confessed that you and Backup knew everyone's true names, which would've been impossible to attain through any regular means. No such documents existed. When Mr. Aizawa told me of the Shinigami Eyes, it got me thinking back to the old days again… but I did not dwell on it, as you two were dead."_

"You're right, Near," I whispered, clutching Mello's phone so tightly that I thought it would break. "B had the Eyes. The Shinigami were haunting him for some reason, but I don't know why."

"_No matter. So do you…?"_

I swallowed hard. "I don't remember anything about you or Mello, but Matt… he's destined to die before he turns twenty."

"_Destiny is a fickle thing," _Near mused. _"With every death that the notebook causes, the world shifts. Paths change, unforeseen situations arise… no, I was being merely curious. We should not put too much stock in these numbers."_

"I learned that lesson a little too late," I said softly.

"_Well, you're here anyway, and I can gladly say that you have earned your rank as my comrade. Congratulations."_

I closed my eyes, basking in the relief that washed over me in pleasant waves. So Near didn't resent me, after all.

"_Now I'll have you know that Gevanni has succeeded in touching the notebook. In a few days' time, I will instruct him with taking photographs of each page and have him study and practice Mikami's writing patterns. When the real notebook is finally found, Gevanni will be prepared to forge an entire copy right off the bat."_

"Am I allowed to tell Mello about this?" I asked solemnly. I was still on edge – what if Near was still testing me?

As if reading my mind, Near let out a good-natured snicker. _"You've proven yourself to be a worthy enough partner. Yes, please share this information with the others. Let it also be known that we must wait at least twenty-three days to see whether or not Gevanni will fall victim to the notebook. If not, we will make our move on Takada."_

"I understand," I told him, smiling to myself as I exited the classroom to rejoin my friends. "But Near, enough with the mind games, alright?"

* * *

When Roger's clunky old car pulled up the driveway the next morning, Allie shot out the front door and down the steps like an excited kid during the first snowfall. The hallways and schoolyard were empty, as all of the Wammy students were sleeping in and enjoying their day off for New Year's.

Matt and I deliberately trailed behind, reluctant to face the new arrivals.

"How are we supposed to explain to them that we're due for a kamikaze one of these days?"

I glowered at my best friend as we stood shivering at the foot of the entrance stairs. "First of all, we're not pilots. And secondly, it's not a suicide mission. We'll have protection…"

_Who am I trying to convince? Matt, or myself?_

"Kevlar is useless against blades, and more importantly, the notebook."

"Takada won't have a chance to use it," I muttered, switching my gaze to the reunion unfolding in the distance.

A familiar couple in their mid-fifties had emerged from the back of the car and had immediately enveloped their adopted daughter in an enormous bear hug. A woman appearing to be in her early twenties slipped out of the passenger seat to join them. It was a strange sight: Allie disappearing between three sets of puffy coats, two heads of curly ash-blonde hair and a single balding one as her family converged on its smallest and youngest member.

Matt and I were too far away to hear what they were saying. When they finally broke apart, I saw that the elder of the Robinson daughters was holding out her left hand for Allie to examine. An extremely loud and enthusiastic yelp confirmed my suspicions.

_They look so happy…_

In that moment, something within me snapped.

_I can't do this. I can't take her away from them. Wammy's isn't her home anymore. _

Allie waved at us. "Come on, you guys!" she called.

"Just a minute," I yelled back, retreating into the warmth of the orphanage with Matt hot on my heels.

Allie's room was unlocked. Her duffel bag was on the floor next to the bed, unzipped and exposing all of its contents for the world to see. I pawed through boxes of makeup and hair products, shirts, pants, and for some reason, a can of pepper spray, before locating what I was looking for.

"Mello, what are you doing?"

"I'm taking the course of least collateral damage. I'm making this decision as our leader."

I pulled out Allie's wallet, and relieved it of the American passport tucked inside its folds.

"How long would it take to replace this, I wonder?" I asked my comrade. It was a rhetorical question, but Matt answered anyway.

"Depending on the country of visit, and if it's deemed an emergency, twenty-four hours. If not, two to three weeks. Regular service would require one to two months."

"That's what I thought. So, Matt, are you able to fly solo?"

Matt gave me a lopsided grin. "Don't worry. I've always been good at multitasking."

My throat closed up and I slung a grateful arm around my best friend's neck. "I knew you would understand."

"Let's just hope Allie doesn't find out until it's too late, eh Mello?"

Three minutes later, we were on our way outside to meet the others and to help Allie's family with their luggage.

* * *

**A/N: Haha, I'm sorry for misleading everyone with Near and the motorcycle key (not to say that it's the end of that, though). Allie had merely been suffering from extreme paranoia lately, in case you hadn't caught on (including the condom false alarm a few chapters back). And alas, the end is on the horizon.**

Shout out: to TheCatchingLightAlchemist, who was first to review the last chapter! *gives jam*

_Special thanks to the latest reviewers: akatsukifan (yay :3), annee loves sasusaku, AyameRose, C. Holywell-Black, Dai Uzimaki, Dark Blood Lust, flygirl (I learned that one from a library book, lol ^_^), I Love Bleach, JeevasMan13, Kira the Wolf, LilPadfootChicky, MafiaGirl14, MaskedAngel18, Mello's Yellow Jello, moonfleur, OhMyGeePinkSucksAss, -patterns-at-dusk-, randomwhiteasiansFTW XD, Sailormercury117, shinigami777, Shrewd Other, TheCatchingLightAlchemist ~ _

**Thanks for reading! (:**


	64. When Chivalry Backfires

**A/N: It's officially the one-year anniversary of Mello and Matt's canon deaths. Therefore, I dedicate this chapter to them, the two most beloved martyrs in the entire Death Note world. May their memory live on through fan fiction! **

**Disclaimer: Neither Death Note nor Mulan belong to me. **

**Note: Heads up for the time skips and a dream sequence, which will be entirely italicized. **

* * *

**Chapter 64: When Chivalry Backfires**

* * *

While Mello and Near continued to synchronize their data and strategies long into and past the darkest hours of the nights, my adoptive parents and sister found themselves assuming the kitchen duties that we had inadvertently vacated since Christmas. The Robinsons seemed relatively content, and the panic that they had brought along with them from Japan had dissipated into relief as they took refuge in the safe haven of Wammy's House. _My _house.

My home.

I was completely torn between warring emotions over my unexpected reunion with my family. On one hand, I was overjoyed to see that they were safe, and that they hadn't been traipsing around on some random vacation after all. I was also happy to learn that my sister had gotten engaged to a fellow Harvard MBA student.

But on the other hand…

I was annoyed they were hovering. A part of me had awakened to the fact that they clearly expected me to clue them in on what had been going on – to reassure them of my personal safety. I could see it in their eyes, a thinly veiled fear that the daughter that Quillsh Wammy and L had entrusted to them six years ago was to ultimately slip out of their grasp. Possibly forever.

They knew that a substantial portion of my childhood memories had returned. They knew that I now had another set of names and faces to put to the titles of _mother _and _father_, and that I wasn't only a Robinson, but a Shire as well.

They knew this and accepted it. It was an inevitability that they had prepared themselves for the moment I had fled Los Angeles.

What I _couldn't_ let them know was what Mello was planning. I was afraid that they would try to stop me from participating, or worse, guilt me into going back to the States with them. The others seemed to understand my potential dilemma and kept silent despite my parents' not-so-subtle poking and prodding.

However, that didn't stop any of them from pretending that everything was okay. Normal, even.

"Surprise! Happy Birthday, Allie!"

My parents burst into the classroom that we had claimed as our headquarters, wheeling in with them a cart with a single-layer chocolate cake perched on top of it, taunting me with the two handcrafted wax numbers jutting out from its mint frosting.

_18_.

"Whoa!" Matt yelped, hurriedly erasing the blackboard and removing any evidence of the brainstorming word cloud that we had created.

In seconds, threatening phrases ranging from _"_Surrender the notebook and your hands will be wiped clean of Kira's bloodshed_" _and_ "_You are just a pawn, a lowly mistress to be discarded once Light is finished with you_" _disappeared from sight. It had been an exercise that Near had proposed earlier in order to train ourselves in the fine art of psychologically manipulative interrogation, which was exactly what we had planned for Takada once she was in our custody. Mello had initially resisted, being offended that Near didn't trust his own methods.

"_Mello, violence will not work on a proud woman like Kiyomi Takada. The key is her loyalty to Light Yagami. If you break her, we will win."_

Monica and John pulled the dessert trolley to a stop in front of me. Roger trailed behind them, looking embarrassed and disgruntled. Amanda brought up the rear, waving several official-looking envelopes in her hand.

"I'm sorry," Roger apologized. "We didn't mean to interrupt."

"What are you talking about? That's the whole point of a surprise party!" John exclaimed, smiling widely.

At first, I was shocked. _A party? At a time like this? _I instinctively glanced at Mello. His eyes were shining with amusement.

"Did you plan this?"

"I helped," he replied smoothly.

"You didn't have to," I began, but just then, my stomach rumbled loudly, betraying my hunger.

"Go on," Mello urged me. "Make a wish."

"Okay. I wish…"

"Don't say it!" Matt cried warningly.

"Fine." I grinned and closed my eyes.

_I wish things really _would _go back to normal. _

* * *

After the cake was distributed, Roger retreated to his office, muttering something about needing to put together the final exam schedule for the Wammy students.

"Good old times," I declared, demolishing every last morsel of chocolate goodness off my plate. I discreetly swiped my tongue across my teeth to make sure there weren't any cake crumbs stuck in between.

Matt raised a brow. "You've got to be kidding me. You were unbearable during exams." His voice mockingly rose an octave. _"I'm going to beat Near this time! Just you wait and see! _Oh, the horror._" _

"Shut up. I'm feeling nostalgic."

"You're not alone," Allie sighed.

I smirked and leaned in until my breath was tickling her ear. She giggled nervously.

"Congratulations," I murmured. "By California state law, _this…_ is officially legal." _This _was accompanied with a chaste kiss against the younger girl's cheek, and then a warm pair of lips on my own.

"Who's counting?" Allie laughed.

I was horribly aware of Allie's adoptive family's astonished stares as we broke apart. We had neglected to tell them that we were more than just friends, in the extreme although possible case that they, as overprotective parents, would drag Allie back to Los Angeles.

It turned out that we shouldn't have needed to worry. John Robinson offered me a brief smile. So I had their blessing.

_Good._

Amanda Robinson cleared her throat, calling attention instead to the two envelopes that she had been waiting to give to her younger sister. The rest of us fell silent, watching curiously as Allie graciously accepted them from the bespectacled blonde woman.

"Your SAT scores arrived on the fifteenth," Amanda explained. _Four weeks ago, _I realized with a jolt. Had it really been a month since we had uncovered Teru Mikami as X-Kira?

"And the Academy's letter?" Allie inquired, eyeing the other envelope with trepidation.

"Just before Christmas," John Robinson piped up.

"After the play?"

Monica Robinson nodded, wringing her hands. "We went to go see it, your father and I. There were a lot of reporters there, since word got out that Misa Amane had played a part in its production."

"And how was it?" Allie demanded breathlessly. "Who was my understudy? Was she any good?"

I noticed that her adoptive father's slight hesitation before answering, as though he was afraid of what Allie's reaction would be. "Yes. The talent scouts that Mr. Jones invited even offered Beth a full scholarship to AMDA. They counted _Mulan Modernized_ as her admission audition."

Disappointment flashed across Allie's face so quickly that I wasn't sure whether or not I was just imagining things. Her eyes lit up and her mouth formed into an easy smile. "I wouldn't have expected anything less of her," she responded.

Her parents visibly relaxed.

"Well then," Allie proclaimed, passing me the thicker of the two envelopes. I took it, surprised. "Let's see what fate has in store for me."

I ripped apart the package with gusto and tugged out the blue and white form. "Critical reading, math and writing," I read aloud. "620, 570 and 590. Not bad."

"All that standardized stuff is a load of crock," Matt said, faking a yawn.

"Easy for you to say," Allie grumbled, glowering at her other letter. "Anyway, I only took it to get into UCLA. The Academy doesn't have testing requirements."

This time, her disappointment was palpable. "You're a Wammy girl, Allie. You don't need to lose any sleep over one measly rejection," I said firmly, handing her the scoring sheet.

"Easy for you to say," she repeated. Her fist tightened around AMDA's memo, wrinkling the plain white paper. "I only applied to two places. And don't get me started on my transcript. I've missed too many classes. I'll have to ask the school board to defer my exams if… when I go back."

Amanda Robinson placed a consoling hand on the brunette's shoulder. "We won't hear from UCLA until March, so just hang in there, alright?"

"March, huh?" Allie murmured. Her gaze flickered to Matt, and then me. "Sure."

The question in her eyes was clear: _Will there even _be_ a March?_

My heart felt like it was being squeezed. I forced myself to give her a miniscule nod.

_Yes, _I thought determinedly, _because you're not coming with us. _

_You will be stranded here in England while Matt and I take care of Takada ourselves._

"Happy birthday, Allie," I said, pulling her into a deep embrace.

Matt wordlessly joined the hug, and John Robinson, detecting the obvious shift of tension among us, quietly escorted his wife and biological daughter out of the classroom and our headquarters.

Near called later that evening, armed with a birthday greeting and an announcement that three customized Kevlar vests were waiting for us in a specially reserved locker at Narita International Airport.

* * *

In contrast to my birthday, there were no outward acknowledgments of the sixth anniversary of Backup's death. No furtive glances of concern, no strained words of condolences, nothing.

Just the way I wanted it.

The twenty-first of January was a dismal day. It rained for the first time in Winchester that winter, the downpour glazing the vast fields of snow surrounding the orphanage with patches of fresh ice.

That night, I returned the vintage trunk that contained Beyond Birthday's things as well as my own to the attic. I knew enough; it was time to move on. There was no point in looking back now. If I remembered anything else, anything about Mello or Near's death dates, then so be it. A life of fear would not be a life at all. Matt was living proof of that.

_I won't make the same mistake this time…_

Six years ago, I had attempted to throw away my life just because I couldn't handle the crushing burden of carrying out L's legacy alone. Nor could I bear living in constant dread of Backup's prophecy. L's title and Backup's prediction had been curses of isolation.

Now, six years later, both of those had been transformed into sources of inspiration for the four of us. United, we would conquer Kira, undermine the rules of the Shinigami and return society to a state of equilibrium; world peace had never been L's objective, but justice.

That would be our goal, too. It was everyone's goal.

"_Gevanni has done his part. Everything's set. Get ready, but do not make any moves until I tell you to."_

The final, decisive call came on the twenty-fifth, at half past two in the morning.

I groped for the MI6 phone vibrating on top of my nightstand and snapped it open. "Huh?" I mumbled, feeling more alert than I sounded. I cleared my throat. "Near?"

"_I've contacted the second L." _The SPK chieftain sounded resigned, but exhilarated all the same.

"So it's time."

"_Yes. We will be meeting on the twenty-eighth at one in the afternoon. You will have a two day window to put your plan into action. It goes without saying: the earlier, the better. Gevanni's only human, you know."_

I bolted straight from my bed, racing to get dressed. My heart was pounding furiously as I began stuffing things into my duffel bag. On a whim, I also tossed in the finger puppet that Near had given me for Christmas. _For good luck._

"At Daikoku Wharf, right?" I asked out of nerves more than anything.

"_Yes, the Yellow Box Warehouse in Yokohama. Yagami had no objections to it."_

I could hardly believe my ears. _At long last._ After all these weeks of lying in wait like mercenaries, Near's theory about Takada and Mikami would finally be put to the test.

The time had come. It was either do or die.

D-Day.

"_His agreement in allowing me to choose the time of our meeting proved that he believes he holds all the pieces," _Near mused._ "He must not obtain solid proof that Mello and I have been collaborating, or else he might call off the meeting on the grounds that we are planning to assassinate him."_

I pulled on a pair of socks. "Right."

"_The second L would most likely be too focused on me to investigate any incoming flights over the next few days. If this is not the case, I've already made precautionary arrangements with Mogi and Aizawa to sabotage any flight information pertaining to anyone holding an American passport," _Near reassured me. _"It's not foolproof, so be careful. Then again, none of this is foolproof…"_

"We'll just have to try our best," I avowed.

"_Indeed." _

I only had to bring along a few sweaters and pants to weigh down my luggage in order to deter suspicion. Now that my parents were here, I could leave the rest of my belongings behind along with a note. There was no point in bringing any extra underwear, makeup, money or credit cards. And so I reached for my wallet, prepared to empty it of any unnecessary contents.

_What the…_

I broke out into a cold sweat as I frantically flipped through the pockets. "Damn it," I croaked. "No, no, no!"

My passport was missing.

A million thoughts ran through my mind. _Did I misplace it at Heathrow? _I wondered, sickened by the notion that my blunder could delay the plan, or worse, jeopardize the entire investigation on Near's end.

I tore out of my room and down the hall, skidding to a stop in front of Matt's room. I tried the knob, and was thankful to find it unlocked.

"Matt, wake up!" I whispered, shaking the slumbering boy.

* * *

"_Mello, let's get Ax to the infirmary."_

_Large, silvery eyes stared out at me. They were bright with both fury and grief. I had never seen Near look so shaken before, in all the years that I had known and resented him._

_It scared me._

_Near pushed his white curls out of his sweaty face to study his unconscious, blood-stained friend. He looked quite ill – I couldn't blame him. _

"_I…I can't..."_

"_What?" I snapped, trying to figure out a way to pick up the half-naked girl._

_I turned on my heel in time to see Near collapse to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest. The twelve-year-old boy's face was pressed into his folded hands, avoiding the sight of gory scene before us. _

"_How did Backup know our names?" Near's voice was muffled._

_I stiffened at this. "If you know what's good for you, I'd forget what he just said," I hissed, hauling my rival to his feet. "Are you going to help me or not?" _

_Near merely blinked at me. My gaze dropped to his fingers, which were toying with the sleeves of his pajamas._

"_Go get Roger," I ordered the younger boy. "Tell him that B escaped. Tell him that A needs medical help." _

_He scampered out of the room without so much as a glance back. A commotion outside in the hallway told me that Near had run straight into the old caretaker himself. _

_I returned my attention to the girl that, by my own hand, had been spared from one of the worst crimes against humanity – a trophy that B would've surely claimed as his first victory in his self-proclaimed campaign to become the world's greatest criminal._

_Snatching the tattered dress from the bed, I draped it across Alternative's torso to preserve her dignity. I quickly unbound her wrists from the bedposts, using the same cotton strips to wrap her wound. _

_Then, very carefully, I collected her plump, pale body into my arms, cringing slightly as a rivulet of blood dripped from underneath the makeshift bandages and landed on my sweatshirt, blending into the black material. I pretended not to notice. If I couldn't see it, it wasn't there._

_But I could feel it. Damp, wet, warm…_

_Roger appeared at the doorway. "Good Lord," he exclaimed._

"_Out of my way," I barked, dashing out of the room with A in my grasp._

_She came to half a minute later. Her eyes peeked up at me, hazy with confusion._

"_Mello?"_

"_Yeah. It's me."_

"_Don't… go… so fast," she pleaded._

_I slowed my pace to a brisk walk. "I have to. You're bleeding. You could die from blood loss, you know," I grunted. "I have to get you to the infirmary."_

"_No you don't," she gasped out. "It won't matter, in the end. Thank you, anyway."_

"_What? What are you saying? No, never mind. Save your energy. You'll be okay, I promise."_

* * *

"What do you mean, it was Mello's idea?"

I was breathing hard, resisting the temptation to plunge my fist into the nearest wall. Matt was silent, gazing up at me from behind the safety of his tinted goggles with a maddeningly cool expression.

"Matt, please," I choked out. "Does he think I'm a liability or something? Please, tell me."

"No," he finally said. "Nothing like that."

"Then why…?"

_Why did you guys destroy my passport?_

"When?" I asked instead.

"New Year's," he answered wearily. "We snuck into your room while you were outside with your family."

"So all this time, you've just been pretending…" I couldn't even finish my sentence, I couldn't even _think _straight. "You… just…"

The older boy nodded curtly. "It was necessary. Mello thought it was necessary."

"But why?" I gasped, biting the insides of my cheek in an attempt to stop my lips from trembling.

"Because he loves you. Isn't that obvious?"

"That doesn't give him the right to – to – he's not the only one who wants to avenge L, you know! It's not fair!"

Matt's eyebrows nearly disappeared beneath his rust-colored bangs. "It's not about what's fair or not. It's about what he thought was right. Mello was just trying to protect you."

"But…" I suddenly stopped. "Do _you _think it was necessary? Do _you _think it was right?"

Matt was visibly caught off guard. A guilty blush spread across his sun-deprived skin.

"You don't."

He said nothing.

"Mello already rescued me once," I reminded him, sitting down on the bed next to the nineteen-year-old prodigy. "I owe him my life. I'm indebted to him. I can't live like that. Especially not when…" I swallowed hard. "Especially not when I'm supposed to be the one to succeed L. Do you understand? I can't, in good conscience, allow Mello to continue on. He's done enough, he's _suffered_ enough!"

The words flowed easily, and I realized that I had already been mentally prepared for this very moment, thanks to Near's test of loyalty.

How ironic, that it would be because of Mello's doing that Near's hypothetical games would be forced to become reality.

"Yes, he has," Matt murmured, nodding in agreement. "He's played the knight in shining armor for far too long, but he's too proud to give that up."

_Good._

"Will you help me, then? Will you help me return the favor?" My heart was hammering as I delivered the final nail in the coffin. "Will you help me save Mello from himself?"

"Depends," he said slowly. "How well can you ride a bike?"

* * *

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was that there was a large yellow sticky note obscuring my vision.

_What the hell?_

I peeled the paper off my forehead and scanned the words. And then again, and again, and again, until my hot, burning eyes blurred the neat script into a messy scrawl and a snarl of rage and anguish ripped from my throat, rapidly escalating into a full-fledged scream.

"Allie! Matt!"

My eyes flew straight to my dresser, where my wallet lay open. A swift search confirmed my suspicions. _Shit! _

I barely had time to process the fact that my bedroom door had already been jimmied before kicking it wide open. The entire floor trembled as I stormed down the corridor to my friends' separate quarters.

Matt was gone. So was Allie.

"God, no," I swore, spotting the good-bye note that Allie had left for her adoptive parents on the mahogany vanity table.

Beside it sat an empty box of L'Oreal Perfect Blondissima, courtesy of Misa Amane.

* * *

**A/N: As some of you are aware, I'm a Canadian university student. Our application process is extremely different from the States' – no SATs, no ACTs – so please let me know if there were any inaccuracies with the details I included. I found everything off of Wikipedia, which isn't entirely reliable.**

Shout out: to C. Holywell-Black, who was the first to review the last chapter! Virtual cheesecake for you!

_Special thanks to the latest reviewers: akatsukifan (aw, thank you! I tried to hint about it in the Christmas chapter, but I guess I failed XD), annee loves sasusaku, AyameRose, C. Holywell-Black, Dai Uzimaki, Dark Blood Lust, flygirl, Gir the Ultimate (hi again :D), I Love Bleach, JeevasMan13, Kira the Wolf, LilPadfootChicky, MafiaGirl14, MaskedAngel18, Mello's Yellow Jello, OhMyGeePinkSucksAss, -patterns-at-dusk-, randomwhiteasiansFTW XD, Sailormercury117 (lol at the Near hate xD), Shrewd Other, TheCatchingLightAlchemist ~ _

**:D? D:? **


	65. Strike

**A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MATTY BOY! You would've been 21 today :(**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or Disney.**

**Note: Explanations/technical details will now be placed at the end instead.**

* * *

**Chapter 65: Strike **

* * *

After attending to the doorknob with an ear pick – one of Gevanni's favorite tricks – it had been a simple matter for Matt, who had grown up sharing a dorm with Mello his entire childhood and early teenhood, to sneak into the ex-Mafioso's lodgings without rousing the man.

It had taken the lithe and stealthy gamer precisely twenty seconds to reemerge with Mello's fake passport and leather jacket, which contained his motorcycle key in one of its pockets. I didn't bother arguing with this; there was no point in bringing up my own copy now.

Transforming my appearance had been a slightly more difficult task. My chestnut locks, which had grown out of Misa Amane's thoughtful haircut from two months prior, had required a hasty trimming and the entire box of her "secret" L'Oreal Perfect Blondissima Crème to successfully bleach it. Throw in a couple of Matt's leftover blue contact lenses, a layer of bronzer and a pair of cosmetically-thickened brows, and…

Voilà.

Gone was Allie Robinson. In her place was Mitchell Kant_, _the proud bearer of a Narita-destined airfare and a counterfeit American passport.

"Business or pleasure?"

I looked the customs guard straight in the eye before answering gruffly, "Pleasure."

Half an hour later, I found myself strapped into a window seat next to Matt. _Hannah Montana: The Movie_ was being featured on the airplane televisions. I ignored the vividly colored images of the horribly disguised celebrity (I mean, a wig? Come _on_!) and patted my own golden bob self-consciously. I had passed for a teenage boy well, considering my short stature. Aside from my naturally angled eyes, I now resembled the bogus photo on Mello's black-market passport even more so than the badly scarred man himself.

A strange sound caught my attention; Matt was humming a peculiarly familiar melody under his breath. I shot the older boy a questioning glance, and he grinned slyly.

"What, you don't recognize it?" my companion – _accomplice – _chided lightly.

"No," I said, frowning in concentration.

With a smile, Matt resumed the tune.

It wasn't until we landed in Japan ten hours later that I, refreshed and rejuvenated from an extended nap filled with dreams of clashing bamboo poles and marching men, finally remembered where I had heard the song from.

"_Be a man_," I whispered into Matt's ear as we were gradually unloaded from the aircraft.

"_We must be swift as the coursing river_," Matt immediately deadpanned. "_With all the force of a great typhoon, with all the strength of a raging fire_…"

"_Mysterious as the dark side of the moon_," I finished before allowing myself to be swept along with the rest of the passengers into the arrivals terminal. Outside, a waxing half-moon and a spattering of stars shone faintly above us, hours from fading into the dawn.

* * *

"What do you mean, your hands are tied?" I seethed, seizing Roger by his collar.

The Wammy's House caretaker looked frazzled but unsurprised by my outburst. "Mello, I don't have as much authority as Wammy used to have. L and Watari were the only ones who could mobilize any police agency or obtain any security clearance they wanted!"

"Then how the fuck did you bail me out at Heathrow?"

"Actually, you have Matt to thank for that. It was all his doing," Roger explained. "He called in the MI6 to stop the investigation, and he only called me in to pick you guys up from the airport."

"Useless! Don't you have any contacts?" I snarled, grappling at straws.

Roger coughed uncomfortably. "No. But Near does…"

I released the old man, who fell back into his chair with a creaky thump. "Surely, you realize that the SPK doesn't have that much power anymore?" I tore at my hair in frustration. "Fuck! Fuck this shit!"

By now, Allie and Matt were most likely already halfway around the world – in Japan, where _I _was supposed to be.

_How the hell could I have let my guard down so easily?_ Was I losing my touch? Was that it?

No.

I was simply outmaneuvered – blindsided – by the one who knew me best, by another who was so subtly unpredictable that there was no way that anyone could've imagined that _I _would end up being the one stranded with no means of escape or intervention.

I had dug a safety hole for Allie that I couldn't climb out of myself. I had been caught in my own trap.

_Idiot!_

What was I supposed to do now? If I told Near, it would only make matters worse. Not only would he blame me for jeopardizing the investigation in the first place with my noble but clearly ill-fated intentions, all of our hard work the past four weeks would go to waste if he called off the operation at the last minute. It was a lose-lose situation.

There was nothing I could do except sit here and… what, twiddle my thumbs? Wait in agony for news? I closed my eyes and calmly counted to three. An image of the sticky note that they had left behind for me immediately resurfaced in my mind.

"_Mello – this will be the last time I will (try to) steal your bike, I promise. Love, Allie."_

"_Mello – sorry, mate, but majority rules. Matt."_

"_P.S. If I die, invest all my funds into the online gaming market. Just kidding. Split the cash with Near."_

"God, damn it!" I cursed, causing Roger to jump in alarm.

Five minutes later, I was running across the orphanage's playground, my booted feet blazing an angry track through the thick snow all the way into the woods. My teeth were chattering, as my motorcycle jacket had obviously been stolen from me in the dark of the night.

"L_…"_

I reverently approached the secluded clearing, wrapping my arms tightly around my body. Frozen tears of rage began to thaw out on my eyelashes and cheeks when I stepped into the red-bricked structure that was L's resting place.

As though of their own accord, my feet made their way toward my idol's marble sarcophagus. Without even thinking about what I was doing, I picked up the gun that I had abandoned there over a month ago, wiped it clean with my bare hands, and slowly placed the barrel across my chest in a pledging gesture.

_I, Mihael Keehl, solemnly swear that I will never kill or maim again_, I thought desperately, raising my eyes to the stone crucifix that hung above L's coffin.

_Just let them be okay._

* * *

The three Kevlar vests were exactly where Near had ordered Commander Rester to store them: in the north wing on the fourth floor. It had already exceeded the eight-day maximum duration since my birthday; however, Rester had paid the managers more than double to extend the deadline by an additional week.

We left the airport in high but anxious spirits. The bulletproof vest strapped securely underneath Mello's leather jacket gave me an odd sensation of invincibility, while Matt's informative warnings and reminders during our cab ride to the Perin Hotel only sparked and fueled the insane amount of epinephrine pumping through my system.

I had never felt this exhilarated or deathly scared before…

…and I couldn't say that it was entirely unpleasant.

Stage fright would never hold a candle to the stomach-gnawing poison that currently resided within me. Catching waves at the beach would be a cup of tea after pulling off this life-defying stunt.

_Who would've known? I, Alexandra Robinson, am a closet adrenaline junkie._

_Then again, aren't we all?_

When we arrived at the hotel, we wasted no time in reuniting with Matt's beloved 1970 Chevy SS, which was still safely parked underground from before Christmas. We threw our luggage into the trunk and began collecting our respective equipment and arsenals: a launcher and several smoke grenades for Matt, and a long pair of handcuffs for me.

And, as Near had promised, his generous gift stood waiting alongside the Camaro in the adjacent spot: a gleaming black Yamaha, complete with a matching helmet perched on top of the seat.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" Matt said appreciatively.

"She? _He _is beautiful," I mused, running my gloved hands experimentally over the glossy and relatively slim frame. "I dub thee my noble steed," I declared, patting Mello's bike.

Matt rolled his eyes behind his goggles. "Anyway, I need to officially check out at the front desk, or they'll charge us extra. You stay here and get accustomed to your noble stallion or steed or whatever."

As soon as Matt disappeared into the elevator, I fished out the _A_-inscribed key hidden in my boots rather than Mello's own copy. _Might as well._

"Oh God, what have I gotten myself into?" I muttered, gazing at the motorcycle uncertainly. It couldn't be that much different than riding a regular bicycle, could it? It required the same level of balancing, leaning…

The elegant but foreign beast of a machine swam before my eyes.

_Which one's the gas? The clutch, the brakes? _

"_When in doubt, wing it_," Mr. Jones used to say. But this wasn't drama club. There was no script, no instruction manual that I was meant to follow. This was reality, and it was my duty to put my all into it.

I swallowed my rising panic. _Think of Mello, Allie._

Wasn't this why soldiers went to war, when traditional wars had still existed? Not for the bloodshed, but for the chance to defend their country, the chance to fight for freedom and justice, the chance to proudly protect their loved ones? Yes, people fought because they had something – or someone – to protect.

_Idealistic, but righteous nonetheless, _I thought with renewed conviction.

"Figure it out. You can do it," I told myself, steering the bike out of the parking space before swinging my right leg over the seat. I planted my feet firmly on the ground on both sides of the stationary vehicle once I was able to hold it balanced between my thighs and underneath my hands. I inserted the key, and a light on the dashboard flashed green. _It's in neutral. Alright._ I pushed the start button.

The engine purred to life; the almost feral sound soothed my nerves.

I plastered on a cool, unruffled expression when Matt returned. He looked almost amused.

"_That's _your war face?" he teased before hopping into his car.

"No, it's my _we're-going-to-survive-this-shit_ face."

"Same difference. You ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," I replied, tugging on the helmet.

"One moment," Matt called out the window. I craned my neck to see what he was doing. He seemed to be rummaging through the glove compartment…

_Ah._

The goggled teen tossed me a handgun through the window. I caught it warily and shoved it into my inner jacket pocket.

"I thought we agreed not to use violence."

"It's for insurance," Matt said curtly. "There's a chance that Takada won't respond to psychological tactics. You'll need something else to hold over her head."

"Me? Aren't we going to rendezvous to interrogate her together?"

Matt hesitated. "Yes, that was the plan. But a drive-by shooting is much harder alone than it would be with two people... I can still do it, b-but…"

I flipped open my visor to get a better look at the older boy. No, there was no mistaking it.

Matt's eyes were shining with tears.

* * *

I wandered the grounds aimlessly, continuing to clutch my gun to my chest as though it would offer me some comfort.

I had been avoiding Allie's parents all day, dreading the inevitable confrontation. On one hand, I was glad that Amanda Robinson had already returned to Boston shortly after her adoptive sister's birthday to start her new semester – one less person to worry about. But on the other hand, if anything were to happen, I would've preferred it if the Robinson couple still had their elder daughter to count on for emotional support.

_I can't, I just can't…_

"Mello? Dinner is ready! Where's everyone else?"

My head jerked up at the sound of the kindly voice floating across the slushy field. I shielded my eyes against the burning amber sunset and squinted toward the orphanage. My gut clenched; John Robinson was poking his head out the backyard door.

_Screw it. There's no point in hiding it from them. They'll find out eventually._

With a heavy heart, I dragged myself over to the waiting man. "Here's the thing," I told Allie's father once I reached him, "it's a long story. Let's go sit down, shall we?"

* * *

"You alright?" I asked my accomplice, shifting awkwardly on top of the vibrating bike.

Matt rapidly blinked away the tears and ducked his head. "Never been better. I just gotta get me some proper smokes. Cigars aren't really my thing, you know?" He cleared his throat. "It's just a few hours until Takada shows up for work. Let's split up and do our thing, okay?"

I nodded. Seven A.M., as Halle had said.

Matt placed a crooked finger gently against his forehead. It took me a few seconds to realize what he was doing.

"_Go n-éirí an bóthar leat. _May the wind be always at your back, the sun shine warm upon your face, the rain fall soft upon your fields, and until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of his hand," the nineteen-year-old prodigy recited, looking evenly at me.

"What is that?" I inquired.

He touched his lips and smiled. "An old Irish blessing."

"_Go n-éirí an bóthar leat, _to you too, then."

"Not bad," Matt murmured, retreating his face from the open window. "I'll see you in a bit, kid."

My heart jerked at the poorly-veiled fear underlying his assertive tone. I waved after the cherry-red car as it roared off and tore out of the Perin Hotel's underground parking lot. If there weren't butterflies in my stomach before, there were a million in there now.

"Jesus Christ, help me," I said aloud.

After a few tries, I managed to differentiate between the rear and front brakes, which were on the right side of the motorcycle along with the accelerator. I clamped down on the clutch and shifted into first gear, which I had seen Mello do when he had "picked me up" from school.

I gripped the Yamaha's handlebars tightly and kicked off, wobbling for the first several feet before bending down and leaning all my weight to the front of the motorcycle to keep it steady.

_Mello makes it look so easy…_

I slowly rumbled out of the parking lot and into the late night. I spent a while hunting down back roads to practice my riding. Bit by bit, I adjusted to the bike by mimicking whatever I could recall from all my backseat motorcycle-riding experiences; however, that wasn't to say that my driving improved a whole lot.

It was half past six in the morning when I finally came to the conclusion that I wouldn't be able to last very long on the Yamaha.

I could only manage five-mile intervals before my back and hips became strained with exertion. Braking was my biggest problem: one had to operate both the front brake, which was at the handlebar, and the rear brake, which was situated just below my feet. It wasn't as confusing as it was physically difficult.

"Well, it's a little too late to back out now," I berated myself.

It was a good thing Mello and Near came up with that backup plan with the truck. That would be my last resort.

_That'll have to do._

The sun was just peeking above the horizon when we struck.

Downtown Shibuya was hauntingly beautiful in the morning; it was as if an artist had dipped a brush in a palette of browns, pinks and yellows and painted over the clouds and buildings with it.

I was completely aware that Kiyomi Takada's guards and Kira's spokesperson herself were driving directly behind me, coming in from the highway, car after armored car. I took my time, calmed by the fact that I obviously didn't look conspicuous enough to arouse their suspicions. I was nobody, just another citizen sharing the road with them like the truck over in the next lane or the family van in front of me.

I turned into the plaza and drove past the front entrance of the NHN studio, discreetly parking the bike at the side of the building. I sat there, waiting, watching…

The Japanese anchorwoman had just climbed out of her car, grasping a pristine white purse that matched her lengthy fur coat in her gloved hands. She waved genially to the throngs of waiting fans that lined the red carpet rolled out for her entry. Someone gave a loud shout of joy and began waving their sign; others raised their cameras high into the air in hopes of capturing a snapshot of their alleged goddess.

My knees banged together at the sight of the red car creeping in from the intersection.

_Matt… _

_Mail…_

He had removed his license plates, as planned, but to my dismay, I saw that Matt had opted not to put on his ski mask, as discussed. I could very clearly see the older boy's distinct red hair, milky-white face and his precious tinted goggles through the windshield of the oncoming Camaro, which was now hurtling toward the group of guards at breakneck speed.

A teeth-grinding screech pierced the air as Matt suddenly braked sideways, sending pieces of gravel flying from beneath the tires. A striped arm shot out of the driver's window, aimed the cannon-like launcher it was holding downward at the pavement, and fired.

_Whoosh._

Panicked screams erupted from the crowd as a thick, grey fog filled the area. I could just make out the hazy shapes of people running for cover. For the second time that day, Matt roared off without another moment of hesitation.

_This is my cue!_

I shot forward on the motorcycle in time to intercept Halle Lidner, who was preparing to pretend to escort her principal into the building.

"No, we've just been attacked," I shouted in Japanese, as I had heard Mello recite so many times over the last few weeks. I didn't bother disguising the pitch of my voice this time. It didn't matter. "It's too dangerous for you to stay around or inside NHN!"

Halle's head snapped up in surprise and bewilderment; I could see the realization dawn on the undercover SPK agent as her eyes fell upon my body and the unnaturally dark blonde strands sticking out from underneath my helmet. Much to my chagrin, she faltered.

"The best thing for the moment is to get away from this place. Please get behind me, ma'am. Hurry!"

I could see the doubt flashing in her haughty eyes. _What the hell do you think you're doing, Alexandra?_

To my relief, Halle finally nodded. "It's okay," she told her younger charge. "Please get on the motorbike and escape as fast as you can."

Kiyomi Takada complied and wordlessly clambered onto the bike behind me. I held my breath as the Japanese woman wrapped her arms around my waist, worried that I would topple over and crash with the extra weight.

The last thing I heard before I proceeded to exit the plaza was Halle commanding, "A-team, B-team, I want you to protect Lady Takada with your cars! The rest of us will go after the rebel that just escaped!"

_God, look over Matt. Please, please, please…_

I veered down the street at a measly thirty miles an hour, flanked by the two teams of bodyguards that Halle had ordered to follow us. I tuned out all of the voices blaring out at me from their cars and concentrated on the road ahead. The wind was whipping against my visor so harshly that I couldn't have done anything else, even if I wanted to.

At the second traffic light, I made my move.

I spotted the narrow alleyway that Mello had strategically selected beforehand for his clean getaway and, without warning, I swerved the corner and rode into the safety of the restricted path. The cars behind us squealed to a unified stop, its occupants evidently horrified by the new development.

"What are you doing?" Takada gasped against my helmet.

_Yes, what am I doing? _

However, I ignored her. As soon as I was safely out of the guards' sight, I carefully braked to a stop and slipped out the handcuffs from my jacket. I quickly fastened one of the cuffs around my wrist and the other around the older woman's before resuming the drive.

"What – !"

Luckily, Takada didn't physically resist. She had no choice but to go along with me; any sudden movements would send us both crashing to our premature deaths.

Nevertheless, I resolved to find that truck and delivery office ASAP.

* * *

**A/N: In canon, Halle Lidner is the one who ordered Takada's guards to go after Matt. Therefore, the difference between life and death for him ultimately falls on her shoulders.**

**Note: There's a 9-hour difference between Japan and England. NHN was ambushed very early in the morning. Time had elapsed in England since the implied dinner scene.**

**Note II: The song that Matt was humming is "I'll Make a Man Out of You". Oh and yes, I made him Irish here with Gaelic as his native tongue :)**

Shoutout: to akatsukifan, who was the first to review the last chapter! Virtual chocolate bars for you!

Special mention: JeevasMan13, who was the 800th reviewer! Thanks for your sweet words, long live M & M indeed!

_Special thanks to the latest reviewers: akatsukifan (I actually never would've guessed xD and thanks again!), AyameRose, C. Holywell-Black, Dai Uzimaki, Dark Blood Lust, Echo1317, flygirl (lol yep!), Gir the Ultimate (thank you so much :D *gives cupcake*), I Love Bleach, JeevasMan13, Jeijo, Kira the Wolf, LilPadfootChicky, MafiaGirl14, MaskedAngel18, Mello's Yellow Jello, OhMyGeePinkSucksAss, -patterns-at-dusk-, Sailormercury117, Shrewd Other, TheCatchingLightAlchemist, YaoiLoverDeathNote1 ~ _

**:)? :(?**


	66. Faith

**A/N: I recently discovered there's a popular superstition in Japanese culture that a person's ABO blood type is a key indicator of their personality and romantic compatibility (like a horoscope), which is why it's common for manga characters to have their type included in their profiles. Kind of strange, but cool… I myself have the same type as Light, Mello and Mikami. Apparently I'm slightly murderous...**

**Disclaimer: This is just a fan fic.**

* * *

**Chapter 66: Faith**

* * *

I found the _TRANSPORT! _eight-wheeler parked snugly between two run-down apartment buildings, where Commander Rester had reportedly hidden it the previous night. How he had managed to obtain it, none of us were exactly sure. Near, who Mello had once mentioned in passing to have never even learned how to book a flight, had simply entrusted his right-hand man with all the "trivial" logistics.

The Yamaha jolted slightly as we mounted the loading ramp and drove through the truck's open rear entrance. The cargo space was nearly empty save for a single cardboard box and a neatly folded blanket on the floor. I shut off the motorcycle, unlocked the handcuffs that bound us together and gave my captive a little nudge.

"Oh!"

Kiyomi Takada gasped in alarm and scrambled hastily away from me. The NHN announcer retreated to the farthest corner at the opposite end of the semi-trailer, where a small panel of light was glowing softly above a glass window that looked directly into the driver's cabin up front. In the muted lighting, I could make out the unadulterated terror shining in the older woman's eyes.

I opened my mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a sudden vibration in my pocket. My heart leapt.

_Damn it, I forgot to switch it off! It must be Mello._

After slipping Matt's handgun out of my – well, Mello's_ –_ leather jacket and aiming it threateningly at the Japanese woman, I used my free hand to fish the MI6-issued phone out of the other pocket. I checked the display and was shocked to see Matt's name flitter across the blue screen. Without even thinking, I tore the motorcycle helmet off my head.

"What is it?" I exclaimed.

Takada gave a start, and that was when I noticed that she was scrutinizing my face as though she was trying to recognize me. _Huh? Does that mean she doesn't have the Shinigami Eyes after all? _

For a moment, there was only silence at the other end of the line. And then:

"_I'm outnumbered. You'll have to go on without me."_

"No," I protested, clutching the cell to my ear. "Matt, get out of there!"

"_It's too late," _he said faintly. I could hear the distinct whine of sirens in the background. _"Their cars got ahead of me. Listen, if Takada doesn't cooperate, you know what to do. Take her to Nagano. Bring her to Near."_

"But – "

The line went dead.

I dropped the phone into my pocket, barely able to believe what was happening. Weeks of planning, undone in a matter of minutes. All I could do now was hope for the best, and pray that our safety net – Near and Gevanni's plan – would be good enough to catch us as we plunged further into this rapidly unraveling chaos. Because apparently, we were already at the point of no return.

I switched my attention to my prisoner. "You," I said numbly, continuing in English. "You understood everything I was saying, didn't you?"

Takada hesitated. I jerked the gun upward in a gesture of warning and she nodded quickly.

"Good. Because I'm not going to show you any courtesy. _You _will cater to _me_. Got that?"

Another nod.

The woman's frightened expression intensified with my next words. "Take off everything you're wearing and put it in that box," I ordered, pointing at the empty parcel sitting by her feet.

"Y-You're asking me to get naked…right here?"

"That's right. You've got a tracer on that'll alert the bodyguards to your whereabouts, don't you?" Takada's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Exactly. Then we'll have to get rid of that first. This delivery company has a shipping office close by, so I'll toss the box there."

Plan A had been to drive directly to the company's office upon shaking off Takada's guards, but in the situation that the motorcycle would somehow run out of gas, malfunction, or get damaged during the chase, Mello would have a backup truck in reserve.

None of those were the case, but nevertheless, the guards were now on the lookout for the bike, and it was better to switch vehicles now. Not to mention that I was much more confident in my Matt-instructed driving skills than my self-taught riding skills. There was no other alternative.

"Hurry up!" I snapped, tightening my grip on the gun.

Takada mumbled something unintelligible and bit her lip, glaring at me pointedly.

"Don't worry," I relented, careful not to take my eyes off her as I swooped down to grab the blanket. "I'll give you this."

"Okay." Takada turned around so that her back was facing toward me as she undressed herself. What the hell was she being so modest for? Granted, I had never been naked in front of anyone before, but I had seen my fair share of unclothed classmates in the change room at school. "I'll g-give you my bag, my cell phone and the s-stuff inside my pockets. I won't be able to contact anyone. S-So can I at least have that blanket around me when I take my underwear off…?"

"Fine. Just hurry up!" I tossed her the blanket, which she caught and hugged to her body gratefully.

As soon as Takada placed her bra and panties into the box, I snatched it up. I poked through the clothes and poured out the contents of her purse. _No notebook in sight. Money, cards, gum… Nothing suspicious at all... I'm safe. She can't kill me now, even if she _does_ have the Eyes._

"Are you going to shoot me?" Takada blurted, gazing fearfully at my weapon.

"Only if the opportunity presents itself," I told her, strolling out of the back of the truck with the confiscated items. "You're going to have to stay in here for a while. And I don't want to hear a peep, got it?"

"O-Okay…"

The last thing I saw before slamming the doors shut was the Japanese woman sliding dejectedly to the floor beside Mello's bike, wrapping the off-white covering protectively around her.

* * *

"Oh God, stop her! Call her! DO SOMETHING, MELLO!"

"I can't," I said impatiently, dodging the hysterical woman that was Allie's adoptive mother. John Robinson wisely chose that moment to intervene and moved in to restrain his wife.

"Monica, calm down!"

"How could you even –?"

"If she's in the middle of something, it'll only jeopardize her safety. Don't you understand?" I yelled, gesticulating uselessly.

"She's in danger either way!" Monica Robinson all but shrieked.

I buried my face into my hands and suppressed a growl of frustration. _I was afraid this would happen…_

From the look of things, the ambush had gone exactly as planned. News of Kiyomi Takada's kidnapping had already spread all over the world. CNN and CCTV's websites were already streaming live video feed from their overseas reporters, and the large flat-screen television in the orphanage's recreational lounge was currently tuned to BBC World News. Everyone from the youngest child to Roger Ruvie was gathered around it, each of them completely aware of the fact that yes, it was _their _Matt, _our _Matt that was leading Takada's men on an internationally broadcasted wild goose chase. Meanwhile, there was no sign of Takada or her abductor anywhere…

Just then, a collective shout echoed through Wammy's House. An indistinguishable, pained shout.

That did it.

Without so much as an apology to Allie's parents, I raced out of the kitchen and tore urgently down the hallway. I nearly knocked a few kids clean off their feet when I stormed into the lounge, violently shoving my way through the watching crowd. My heart was hammering fast – _painfully _fast – against my ribcage.

"MOVE OUT OF MY WAY!" I roared.

"Mello!" Roger cried.

The air seemed to vanish from my lungs as I was met with the heart-stopping sight of my best friend's bullet-ridden Camaro in stunning 60-inch plasma high definition.

"_This just in from our sources at NHN News at 7. One of the perpetrators was carrying several firearms, and threatened to fire at Lady Takada's bodyguards…"_

* * *

We arrived at the _TRANSPORT! _shipping office in just under twenty minutes. I had driven as swiftly but carefully as possible, which had been a wondrous feat considering that I had been utterly unable to concentrate fully on the road. I couldn't get Matt's last words out of my mind.

"_It's too late... You know what to do… Bring her to Near."_

That had been our last resort – to take Takada directly to the SPK's headquarters. Matt must've had picked up on my panic and assumed – correctly, no less – that I wasn't sure that I would be able to break her alone. Although I had the older woman at my mercy, I was still scared out of my wits, which would undoubtedly impair my interrogative skills.

_Matt, hang in there. _I couldn't even bring myself to imagine the predicament that he was in. Halle Lidner, our ace in the hole, was his final hope.

I cast my surroundings a sharp glance. Not a soul was in sight, as it was still relatively early. And, as though Lady Luck was smiling particularly on me today, the sun had disappeared behind a heavily overcast sky.

Keeping my head bowed low and hiding my face underneath the uniform cap I had found in the driver's seat, I carried the box containing Takada's possessions over to the nearest unlocked truck. After dropping the parcel among several stacks of similar-looking packages, I casually sauntered back across the parking lot to my own truck.

Once inside, I ripped off the corporate uniform shirt and cap and settled into the seat. On a whim, I peered through the window and into the semi-trailer to see how Takada was holding up. She was still huddled in the corner of the enclosed space, trembling beneath the blanket.

_You haven't seen the worst of it yet, Y-Kira._

To totally dominate someone who was defenseless would've normally repulsed me, but I held no pity or sympathy for this woman. I had already seen her naked with my own eyes back at the Perin; I had witnessed her, to put it lightly, _cavorting _with the man that everyone knew without absolute proof to be Kira. Yes, Kiyomi Takada was a human being, but since she had elevated herself to a level of that of a goddess, she was also justifiably exempt from any form of humanity or compassion.

Questionable means or not, we had no choice but to fight fire with fire. But for now, there was no motivation stronger than survival. The SPK, Mello, Matt, Shuichi Aizawa and Kanzo Mogi – we all understood this.

I returned my attention to the front and started the truck. And then we were off once again, heading further and deeper into the countryside. It was distinctly foreign and uncomfortable steering on the right side of the vehicle, as the driver's seat in Matt's car had been on the left, but at least it was better than going back on the motorcycle.

True to her word, Takada kept silent the entire time. This made me feel more at ease with the situation. Mello had once confided how Sayu Yagami's endless screaming during her own captivity had been one of the most troubling and distracting side-effects of his Mafia operation in October. But then again, she had been an innocent, unlike Takada.

I gritted my teeth. _Now is not the time to worry about petty moral qualms._

Without taking my eyes off the road, I let my left hand wander across the glossy screen built into the dashboard. I pressed the biggest button my gloved fingers could find, hoping that it would activate what I assumed to be a GPS unit. Although I had the planned routes memorized, I didn't want to take any chances. It would be catastrophic, if not humiliating, if we ended up getting lost. Every minute counted; we were already working against the clock here.

_Beep._

A blaring, nasal voice chattering away in Japanese instantly filled the cabin, causing both my arms to jerk in surprise. The truck, to my horror, veered slightly into the next lane.

"Goddamn!" I swore, squeezing my fists around the steering wheel before straightening the moving vehicle. I could feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead, cold and itch-inducing.

I instinctively glanced at the monitor. _What the heck? Who keeps a TV in the front s–? _

"Oh, my God!" I screamed.

The NHN anchorman's face had suddenly been replaced by the image of a devastatingly familiar red car that was full of bullet-holes and splattered with dark liquid.

My head began to spin. Grief pierced my chest, burning through the insides like acid.

_God, Matt… _

I let out another wail. I couldn't help it. Matt was gone, just as Beyond Birthday had predicted all those years ago. The needle on the speedometer jumped and wavered dangerously, but I didn't care. A dreamlike haze enveloped me, muffling the reporter's voice and the thundering rumble of the engine. It was as though everything was going in slow motion, as though time itself had stopped. All the bones and muscles in my body were locked into place, rendering my limbs immobile. I was crying so hard, I could hardly think straight, let alone see, hear, _breathe.._.

I was going into shock.

At first, I barely registered the fact that the two-ton truck that I was illegally operating was now hurtling down the wrong side of the freeway. A chorus of angry and frenzied honks yanked me back to reality.

"Shit!"

I swerved frantically to maneuver around the oncoming traffic and slammed hard on the brakes. Big mistake.

The eight-wheeler spiraled out of control, skidding on the ice that slicked the pavement below its giant tires. My seatbelt bit into my torso, threatening to rend me in two. The truck continued forward, crashing through the roadside railing. There was an almighty screech as metal met metal, and we began our unbidden descent down a thinly forested slope.

By some miracle, the quaking vehicle managed to stay upright. However, it was rolling down the hill so fast that no matter how much I pumped the brakes, the truck wouldn't respond. Branches of threadbare trees lashed at the windshield as we whipped through the woodland at an impossible speed, each landing impact jarring me forcefully in my seat. My vision blurred as my withheld tears finally spilled over my cheeks, tears for Matt, tears for Mello and Near, tears of failure and apology and regret.

_I never thought this would happen. L, forgive me._

Just as I was about to give up hope of surviving, a winding stretch of road came into view. Still screaming and crying, I desperately gave the steering wheel one last twist to direct the truck toward the clear path. The vehicle burst into the opening a few seconds later, free at last from the rough terrain. I didn't even have time to celebrate before I noticed the dilapidated stone building looming above us in the short – fatally short – distance.

A church.

We collided head-on into the entrance. The windshield splintered and shards of glass came flying into the driver's cabin, decorating the vinyl seats like diamond beads. A choked sob escaped me when I realized in the split-second before my face smashed against the dashboard that the air bag wasn't deploying.

Succumbing to my emotional exhaustion and the physical trauma, I slumped over the steering wheel and blacked out.

* * *

"…_but he was shot down before he could harm anyone."_

The image of Matt's bloodstained car was instantly swapped with a shaky video sequence, which showed a distorted redheaded figure being gunned down by a circle of bodyguards. They replayed it five times from different angles, like a sports clip looping a noteworthy goal or a fight.

I watched, frozen in suspense, as Matt collapsed, evidently bleeding from every exposed crevice of his body.

The BBC broadcaster continued in a voiceover narration. _"The culprit has not yet been identified, but has been taken into custody for questioning by Takada's guard, former CIA agent Halle Lidner. The police and the rest of Lady Takada's personal security are pooling all of their resources to find her."_

Cheers and sighs sounded all around me. A painfully huge grin spread across my face, and I staggered backward onto the closest sofa, breathless and overwhelmed with relief.

_Taken into custody for questioning. _Matt was alright. For now, anyway.

_But what about Allie?_

A polite voice broke through my troubled thoughts. "Sir?"

_Sir? _I stared wordlessly at the tan-skinned kid in front of me, recognizing him as one of Matt's other minions in the computer club. "You have a call."

"A call?"

The young boy held out a sleek red cell phone. _My _phone. "You dropped it when you came in."

Quickly thanking him, I seized the mobile eagerly from his outstretched hand and dashed out of the room. I hurried down the halls and stole into the chapel, where its cell phone jammers had malfunctioned long since my departure from Wammy's. A comforting blanket of darkness and fragrance settled upon me; the air inside the chapel was heavy with incense. My feet automatically found their way to the altar, where electronically-powered miniature shrines representing a range of religions proudly adorned the steps.

I flipped open the vibrating phone and answered with a hopeful, "Allie?" My loud, ringing voice filled the small worship space, reverberating off the concrete walls and painted windows.

"_Not quite. This is Near."_

"Is Allie with you?"

"_No… isn't she with you?"_

"Near," I said haltingly. "I'm at Wammy's."

My former rival's tone was deceivingly but reassuringly calm. _"Halle told me that Ax showed up at NHN in your stead and that Matt was by himself. But never in a million years would I have imagined that you were still in England." _

"It wasn't by choice," I snarled, my hackles rising.

"_I figured as much. Well, this changes things… Mello, I'm calling to let you know Matt's conditions."_

"Conditions?" I repeated, feeling my stomach plummet to the floor. "How serious are his injuries?"

"_Halle had him brought to the hospital. Matt's lost a lot of blood, perhaps too much. As you've probably seen on the news, he was shot down before Halle could issue a counter-order. Fortunately, all his vitals were missed and the Kevlar protected his major organs, but his head was clipped a few times. He needs a donor."_

"Then find him one," I demanded as I squatted down beside a Buddha statue whose smile was reminiscent of the Mona Lisa. "What type –?"

"_O-positive," _Near replied solemnly.

I groaned inwardly. _Shit. _Trust Matt to be born with the only blood type that could donate to everyone else but only receive that of his own category.

"At any rate, I wouldn't have been able to help him," I grated out. "I'm an A."

"_Commander Rester is an O-negative," _Near ventured. _"I can send him to the hospital, but that could attract a lot of attention, especially since Matt is officially now a fugitive. There's a possibility that Light Yagami may want to get rid of every single loose end, so I'll have Halle report Matt's death in a few hours without releasing any further information."_

"Do it," I whispered. "Do it now."

"_Alright." _

There was an extended pause as Near presumably relayed the instructions to our favorite double agent. There was another click as he resumed the conversation.

"_Anyway, I was able to convince the second L that I wasn't involved in the kidnapping and that it's nothing but a nuisance to me. He still has no idea that we had caught onto his plans and that we are trying to locate the real notebook."_

"Emphasis on _trying_," I muttered. "Have you tried Allie's phone yet?"

"_Yes. However…" _Near hesitated. _"She keeps ending my calls without picking up."_

My throat clenched up. "Maybe she's driving and can't talk," I suggested.

"_Then why keep the phone on in the first place?"_

The shrewd suspicion in Near's musings sent chills down my spine.

_Someone else is using her phone._

But before I could voice my theory, Near spoke again. _"Hold on. Gevanni is on the other line."_

I waited for what felt like an eternity. When Near finally returned, my patience snapped.

"It'd better be good news!" I hissed into the phone.

Although I couldn't see him, I could practically hear the smirk that curled the SPK leader's mouth as he proceeded to share the verdict.

"_Good news would be an understatement. We've won, Mello. The problem is solved."_

* * *

A string of incoherent curses of no distinguishable language spouted from my mouth the moment my eyes cracked open. I blinked a few times, disoriented from the alien warmth and light seeping into my senses. My skin and bones tingled; I was too afraid to move.

_Where am I? What happened?_

My nostrils were immediately hit with an acrid smell. I swallowed my rising bile when the bloody curtain of dyed hair falling limply around my face came into focus as a vague smudge of colors: golden, like Mello; red, like Matt, like his hair, his car – _God, it hurts – _red, bright red and blindingly orange…

_Orange?_

I lifted my head in time to see the white nose of my borrowed truck explode into brilliant amber flames that matched the inferno that had already been blazing all around me, climbing higher and higher up the interior walls of the church that housed the mutilated vehicle and two humans. Me, and Takada.

With a feeble whimper, I kicked at the side door. It flung open easily and swung off its hinges, crashing to the ground. The growing fire lapped hungrily at my feet, thickening the air with its deadly heat.

_Do or die._

I closed my eyes, braced myself and jumped.

* * *

**A/N: DUN DUN DUN (done done done?). Not just yet. This is, however, the penultimate chapter. There may or may not be an epilogue. **

Shout out: to TheCatchingLightAlchemist, who was first to review the previous chapter. You rock my rainbow socks!

_Special thanks to the latest reviewers: akatsukifan (double the thank you!), A. Alice-LaCasse, AyameRose, C. Holywell-Black, Dai Uzimaki, Echo1317, Eryn Goddess of Chaos, flygirl, Gir the Ultimate, I Love Bleach, JeevasMan13 (you're very welcome, thanks again!), Jeijo, Kira the Wolf, MafiaGirl14, MaskedAngel18, Mello's Yellow Jello, OhMyGeePinkSucksAss, -patterns-at-dusk-, Sailormercury117 (did you get my message? ^^), ShadowedSerenity, Shrewd Other, TheCatchingLightAlchemist, YaoiLoverDeathNote1 ~ _


	67. Through Thick and Thin

**A/N: Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! Or, as Mello would probably call it, Happy Stuff-Your-Face-With-Chocolates Day. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note. **

**Note: This entire chapter is told from Allie's POV; the line breaks indicate brief time lapses.**

* * *

**Chapter 67: Through Thick and Thin**

* * *

I cleared the blazing inferno and landed safely, albeit roughly, on my toes and fingertips atop a pile of debris. The billowing smoke was becoming unbearable now. After staggering to my feet, I yanked off my jacket, prepared to employ it as a shield to protect myself from being burned to a crisp while trying to escape. I was already basted in sweat; I didn't want to end up completely barbecued. Almost blindly, I fumbled through the jacket's pockets to empty them.

_You've got to be kidding me…_

My hand came away with a handful of glass fragments, a crumpled candy bar wrapper and Mello's fake passport. Dread lanced through me like lightning.

Matt's handgun was gone, as was my phone.

Just then, the distinct sound of a gunshot rang out from the other side of the once-holy ruins. As if in response, the inferno roared louder. I frantically battled my way around the crushed nose of the truck and climbed over the strewn rubble, using Mello's leather jacket to whack away at the fiery barriers in my path.

And then I saw her.

Kiyomi Takada.

She was silhouetted against the flames like a demoness beholding hell, standing serenely before the shining wreckage. To my horror, I noticed that the blanket clinging to her naked body had caught on fire. But what was more frightening and disturbing was that she was doing absolutely nothing to acknowledge it, _nothing _to stop the sizzling flames slowly eating away at the cloth. The Japanese woman's face was a visage of indifference; her eyes were glazed over as though they were a pair of cold marbles.

My gaze dropped to Takada's outstretched hand, where Matt's gun dangled from her fingers. _Crap! _I automatically glimpsed at the ground and spotted at least a dozen bullet casings scattered around her bare feet. Takada had clearly started the fire herself by shooting the truck's gas tank.

"Give that back!"

I raced forward to wrestle the gun from her grasp, but was knocked off my feet when she flung out her other arm and smacked me viciously across the face with inhuman strength. I spun around and tumbled into the fallen bricks heaped nearby.

"ARGH!" A jolt of pain surged through my legs as both of my kneecaps shattered underneath me.

Takada ignored me, continuing to flail her arm in a sweeping majestic gesture. That was when I realized that she was actually tossing something into the fire – little scraps of paper. One slipped from her hand and fluttered to the floor within my reach, and I snatched it up instinctively. It was covered with kanji in distinguishing groups of three; however, there was also a single name written in English.

My heart skipped a beat before it escalated to a thundering pulse.

_Mihael Keehl. _

Out of nowhere, Takada swooped down like a ghastly white vulture and tore the final piece of paper – the piece of the Death Note – out of my trembling fingers and promptly threw it into the flames. And then, without even saying a word, she ripped off the blanket and strolled straight into the ravenous fire. A nasty sizzling noise instantly crackled through the air; the orange conflagration hissed and spat as it consumed the naked woman.

Just like that, Kira's spokesperson was gone.

_Oh, shit. Fuck, what the fuck. What the actual fuck. _It was too much for me.

I threw up, my vomit painting the stone debris peach and red. My vision began to swim as I crawled off the mound of dirtied bricks and onto the floor of the burning worship space. I half-giggled, half-sobbed at the "_Stop, Drop, and Roll" _mantra that had suddenly popped into my mind_. Well, that's not going to help me now. _I couldn't even walk – I would either succumb to smoke inhalation first or get buried beneath the collapsing building.

I rolled over onto my back, breathing heavily. From my sprawled position, I could see the rafters beginning to cave in above me. I could also make out the distant whine of Mello's Yamaha several yards away, somewhere in the vicinity of the truck's rear and the church's entrance.

_So that's how she got out…_

A mixture of sweat and tears streamed down my face. I wasn't going to make it. Escape wasn't an available option anymore. By now, the church had been completely enclosed by a ring of fire that reached twenty feet and counting. Oh yes, I was going to die in this fiery cage, this surreal hell.

_Et mundus finietur flammis, _a voice at the back of my mind whispered.

_Wait, what? _

Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I threw Mello's jacket over myself like a bedspread, temporarily blocking out the sweltering heat that assaulted my entire being. _God, make it quick. _The only consolation was that I would soon be in a better place – hopefully, at least – with Matt, my parents, L, Wammy…

I cried harder. I had never felt so powerless or alone in my life. And so, burrowing myself under the comforting leather and reveling in the cover of relative darkness, I waited for death.

…_and the world shall end in flames._

* * *

_What is this?_

I was vaguely aware of a soft but insistent tugging sensation everywhere around me and inside of me and nowhere at once. The very air seemed to teem with a sluggish, dreamlike quality. I couldn't see or hear anything; it was pitch-black and silent as I envisioned the darkest depths of the ocean to be, or the furthest corner of the universe.

_Where am I?_

A plaintive whimper bubbled from my throat. Or was I just imagining things? It smothered me, this painless and muted environment. I didn't even know whether or not I was breathing. Was this what dying felt like? Was I departing from my human form and entering into the afterlife?

Someone laughed; it was a dry and raspy noise.

"Who's there?" I tried to say. My voice came out as a muffled croak. That was when I became aware of the unidentified obstruction strapped onto my face.

_An oxygen mask…? _I marveled, flicking out my tongue to wet my chapped lips. _Am I in a hospital?_

With a grunt of effort, my eyelids parted. Black. Everything was still black. For a terrifying moment, I thought that I had gone blind. And then I caught sight of a silvery glint of metal somewhere off to the side, as well as a greenish light.

_I'm really alive. But how?_

"Oh, good. So you _can _hear me. I was wondering how I was going to do this."

"Yes." I paused. I couldn't take it anymore. Very carefully, I lifted the oxygen mask from my face and adjusted it slightly so that my mouth was free. My arm felt numb and heavy, like rubber. "Who's there?" I repeated.

"Take a guess."

My ears perked up at the sound of the creak of leather and a jangling of chains.

"Mello?" I blurted hopefully.

Another cackle. This time, it seemed to come from somewhere in front of me. "Nope!"

A dim glow encroached upon my vision, throwing my surroundings into sharp relief. My temples throbbed as I took in the sight of the hospital room and its pale pink curtains and sterile white furnishings that looked clean enough to eat off of without a plate. Beside me, a ventilator hummed and a heart monitor beeped. At the foot of my bed was an empty chair, where Mello's motorcycle jacket was draped over the top rail. My gaze flickered upward.

Standing by the room's light switch was a hideous monster.

_Holy shit._

It waved at me.

I immediately stiffened, concentrating on the opposite wall and taking slower breaths to prevent the cardiac monitor from going ballistic; an abnormally large green spike had abruptly flashed onto the screen. I didn't move for an entire minute.

"Hey, why are you ignoring me?" my uninvited guest complained, floating over to the bed.

"Are you going to kill me?" I whispered, blinking up at the hulking creature's ashen, jester-like face and its bulging yellowed eyes. He – or at least I assumed it was a "he" – looked strangely familiar. I swallowed hard. Was I going to receive some kind of divine retribution for touching the notebook's paper?

"_Hyuk hyuk. _What makes you say that, Alexandra Robinson?"

I tensed up at his deliberate usage of my adoptive surname. So it was Robinson that he saw, not Shire_. Interesting._ "Well, you're a Shinigami, aren't you?"

The grotesque death god smiled in response. "Yeah. I'm Ryuk."

It suddenly clicked. "You're one of them," I breathed, struggling to sit up. "Ryuzaki knew you."

Ryuk tilted his head inquisitively. "Ryuzaki? You mean L?"

"No, the r-real one," I stammered in confusion. _L? So this Shinigami knew L. Is he connected to Kira, then?_ "The one you gave the Eyes."

Ryuk huffed and crossed his bony arms. "Oh, him. It wasn't me. Blame that on the old man."

"What old man?"

"The king," the Shinigami responded, drifting over to the window and shoving aside the drapes. He chuckled derisively. "A little bird told me that he wants me to tell _you_ he said hello before I return to our realm. Well, hello. Okay, bye now!" A pair of jet-black, crow-like wings instantly sprouted from between his shoulder blades.

"No, wait! Who wanted to say hello?" My head was beginning to spin again. "The king?"

"No, your friend. Hmm, what does he like to call himself again?" Ryuk scratched at his head, which was covered in jagged ink-blue hair. "Something Deathday? Beyond Deathday? Yeah, that's it. Anyway, he's a slave to the king now. He's not allowed his own notebook, but he _will _live as long as the old man deems fit."

"H-He w-wasn't…"

_He wasn't my friend_, I wanted to say, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I was just too overwhelmed with conflicting emotions, and the newfound knowledge that Backup was now residing in the Shinigami Realm, possibly keeping watch over me like some kind of cursed guardian angel, was the last straw. With a jolt, I realized that it wasn't resentment that I felt anymore.

Pity. It was pity.

"Who was the little bird?" I asked instead.

"Some guy named Sidoh," Ryuk answered dismissively. My brows furrowed in recognition.

"You look terrible," Ryuk remarked, doing a one-eighty and settling down on top of the dresser, causing the vase of flowers displayed there to rattle precariously between the Shinigami's booted feet.

I tentatively touched my head, which was secured with bandages. "I'm not surprised," I muttered, picturing the aching bruises that Takada had left on my cheek however many days ago.

"But not as terrible as Kira did earlier this afternoon," he added cheekily. "_Hyuk hyuk."_

"Aha," I gasped. I had guessed correctly. "Kira, as in Light Yagami?"

"Light, as in Kira," Ryuk confirmed in a snide singsong voice. "So you knew him, too?" He stared down at me, tapping his chin with a glossy talon.

I nodded warily, unperturbed by the calculating look in the death god's bulbous eyes.

The Shinigami threw his head back, cackling gleefully. "You must be the female accomplice he was on the lookout for!"

I nodded again.

The black-clad death god smirked. "You have no idea how lucky you are, human. In the end, that Near character was just more of a priority than the rest of you. _Hyuk hyuk._ Although, Light did suspect for a while that you were all collaborating."

"He underestimated us, then," I murmured. I was almost afraid to ask. "What happened today, Ryuk?"

"The grandest spectacle and most epic failure that I had ever had the pleasure of witnessing," Ryuk snickered. "That monkey of a cop did quite the number on our friend Light before I finished him off myself."

The Shinigami unsheathed a slim notebook from his skull-studded belt and enthusiastically flipped it open to the centre of its pages. Three characters. Their respective translations automatically rose to the surface of my mind: _Night – God – Moon. _

_Wait, how did I know that? I can't read Japanese..._

_...or can I? _

"Kira's dead," I mumbled in disbelief. It was practically too good to be true. "Kira's dead?"

"That's right," Ryuk replied. "It was about time, don't you think? I was getting a bit bored myself."

I gave him a tear-laced grin. "So then _you_ were Light's Shinigami. And you killed him."

The death god bristled. "Shinigami aren't pets. But yes, I possessed the notebook that had been in his ownership. Now that it's gone forever, there's no excuse for me to stay here in the human realm." He sighed gloomily. "I'm really going to miss the ap–"

"Where was it?" I interrupted the brooding Shinigami. "The real notebook, I mean."

Ryuk's golden eyes glittered mischievously. "Oh, here and there," he said airily, hopping off the dresser and flaring his wings wide.

"Don't go!"

"I've overstayed my welcome," the death god droned. "Besides, someone's on their way. Sayonara, Alexandra."

"Good-bye, Ryuk."

I felt considerably dejected as I watched him shimmer out of the visible spectrum. Finished was my first – and most likely last – encounter with a Shinigami; gone was my surprising source of information, my link to the outside world. There wasn't even a calendar or radio in the room. Who knew how long I had been, and would be, in the hospital for?

According to the Shinigami, Light Yagami had died today, which must've meant that Near was able to salvage the investigation and solve the case without our help. _Did he have to postpone the meeting in Yokohama? _I wondered, annoyed that I wouldn't be able to satisfy my curiosity until God-knew-when.

Remembering Ryuk's advance warning, I turned my attention to the doorway, fully expecting a nurse or doctor to come strolling through.

I was wrong.

Three members of the SPK shuffled in. The group was led by Near, with Halle Lidner and Stephen Gevanni bringing up the rear. The trio looked exhausted, but pleased nonetheless.

"Near!" I exclaimed hoarsely.

A ghost of a smile appeared on the older boy's face when he noticed that I was propped up against my pillows, wide-eyed and waiting.

"Allie," the SPK leader said awkwardly, striding up to my bedside while Gevanni flanked him. "I see that you're finally awake."

"Yeah," I sighed.

"You were in a coma for two days," Halle elaborated from across the room. I shot her a inquiring glance. The woman was still hovering by the door, as though she were waiting for someone else.

I finally spoke. "Where's Commander Rester?" I asked cautiously.

Near nodded toward the door. "He's in the next room with Matt."

I almost toppled off the bed in shock.

"MATT?" I shrieked, sending my heart monitor into overdrive. "He's alive?"

"That's right. You haven't gotten rid of me yet," drawled one of two new arrivals.

A certain gangly redhead decked in a thin blue gown rolled through the doorway in a wheelchair while a solidly-built man trailed behind him. On closer inspection, it was actually Commander Rester who was doing all the work; Matt's own hands were nestled in his lap, curled possessively around a certain game console.

Matt was as pale as death, but that obviously didn't stop him from doing what he did best: diffusing the atmosphere. Near's faint smile was instantly replaced by a genuine beam. Gevanni leaned against the wall, oozing a relaxed smugness. Halle seated herself in the empty chair at the end of my bed.

"Hey, Allie," Matt declared, pointing at the gauze fastened around his forehead like a headband. "We can totally pass for twins now. Or have you given up on dressing up as men?"

I was on the verge of passing out from joy. Pure, unbridled joy. "Matt, how…?"

"This man here saved my ass," Matt answered, peering up at Rester and patting his massive biceps. "Thanks, dude." One of Rester's forearms was bandaged, from what I presumed to be from a blood donation.

The SPK's second-in-command coughed modestly. "It was nothing."

"Gevanni," Matt called, raising a hand to high-five the agent, which Gevanni recipocrated. "Good job with the notebook."

The agent smirked. "My pleasure." He turned toward me and quickly explained, "Mikami had it at the bank all along. Isn't that ironic?"

My eyebrows rose in astonishment. "Wow."

"And Halle, you too," Matt continued, reaching out for Takada's former bodyguard's hand. Halle hesitated before offering it to him; Matt grazed her knuckles with a respectful kiss.

The blonde woman gave him a brief smile. "I did what I had to do." For a fleeting moment, I locked gazes with the agent. Her normally-cold eyes had lost their steely quality.

Comprehension dawned on me.

"You rescued me from the church."

Before she could reply, a horde of nurses and doctors rushed into the already-crowded room, evidently alerted by a trigger that my heart monitor had activated. My friends' faces disappeared from sight as I was swarmed by the Japanese medical team. They were visibly excited about my recovery; after checking my blood pressure and making sure that I could indeed breathe without the ventilator, they consulted with Halle, who eventually sent them off on their way.

"They'll be back in half an hour to remove your casts," Halle translated for me. I nodded gratefully.

When the crowd finally dissipated, Near cleared his throat.

"The SPK has been disbanded on my own terms," the Wammy prodigy announced for Matt's benefit as well as mine.

"Near," I choked out, "we're in a public area."

Near clicked his tongue impatiently. "Who do you think I am, some half-cocked idiot?" he said bluntly. "This is a private hospital that's specially designed to treat celebrity patients. Halle checked it out herself. It's clean. We don't have to worry about being spied or eavesdropped on."

"Oh... I see."

"Anyway, I have officially been instated as L. The Japanese Task Force has already acknowledged me as the so-called acting man behind the letter."

"Wow, congratulations," Matt proclaimed. "And what does Mels think of this?"

I felt the blood drain from my face. _Mello_. I had been so caught up with meeting Ryuk and finding out Matt had survived the shooting that I had completely overlooked the inevitable confrontation with the volatile blond.

"Is he angry?" I asked quietly.

Dark gray eyes twinkled knowingly at me. "Find out yourself," Near intoned, handing me a slim silver phone and motioning for the others to follow him out of the room. "Now, I'd like to take this opportunity to discuss renewing your contracts..."

* * *

"_What the hell were you thinking? I was trying to keep you out of trouble, and you go ahead and… and get yourself into exactly that!" _Mello's enraged voice brayed in my ear.

Mello had picked up on the first ring. When he had realized that it was me, and not Near, he had completely flipped out and began raving like a maniac.

And oddly enough, I found it incredibly heartwarming.

All previous feelings of intimidation and apprehension were swept away by the simple fact that _it was over. _The war had been won.

It was actually over.

"_You have no idea how worried sick I was, and don't get me started on your parents! When they found the truck and Takada's corpse in that church, your mother had to be sedated! She thought it was you! And then she apparently got kicked off the plane for freaking out at the –"_

"Mello," I boldly interrupted the bellowing man, "that easily could've been you, too."

"_Are you kidding me? I know how to drive. Unlike you, obviously!"_

"That wouldn't have mattered anyway. Takada tried to kill you!" I protested vehemently.

There was an extremely pregnant pause.

"_You mean, she tried to kill _you_, who were pretending to be _me."

"I saw it with my own eyes, Mello. She wrote your name on a piece of the notebook, along with a bunch of other people's. She must've hidden the damn things somewhere on her body," I mumbled, clenching my free hand in frustration. It had really been such a close call. If Takada actually had possessed the Eyes, she would've been able to see through my disguise in a heartbeat.

This sent him into another explosive rant. _"How the hell could you have been so careless? God, Allie…"_

Mello suddenly broke off, and a tiny sniffling noise issued from the phone, followed by several heaving sobs.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, I couldn't resist.

"Aww, Mello, are you crying?"

"_Shut up. That's irrelevant!"_

"No, it's endearing," I told him, grinning to myself. "Very, very endearing."

* * *

**A/N: As you've seen, I opted not to recap the Yellow Box Warehouse showdown scene by scene but showed it via word-of-mouth instead. This was so that we could learn about it from an outsider's limited perspective (to keep it fresh). And no, I did not diverge from canon's ending. Nothing out of the ordinary happened, aside from M/M's survivals. Here, Matt, like Misa (ie. her canonical suicide), is further proof that lifespans are not set in stone.**

**I feel that I've made a pretty good decision in wrapping it up this way, and so I really hope that you enjoyed the last installment of the fan-fictionized second arc! The epilogue will basically be a short, somewhat fluffy glimpse into the characters' futures, post-Kira. It shall be narrated exclusively by Mello ^_^**

_An extra big thank you to the latest reviewers:_ _akatsukifan, A. Alice-LaCasse, AnnaLee, AyameRose, Blue Fire Lily, Burning Moon of the Sky, C. Holywell-Black, Demyx-Gaara-Cloud, Echo1317, Eryn Goddess of Chaos, flygirl, Gir the Ultimate, Kira the Wolf, MafiaGirl14, MaskedAngel18, Mello's Yellow Jello, OhMyGeePinkSucksAss, -patterns-at-dusk-, randomwhiteasiansFTW XD, Sailormercury117, ShadowedSerenity, Shenkuu Ovarii Lily, Shrewd Other, TheCatchingLightAlchemist, xElementFivex, YaoiLoverDeathNote1 ~ _

**I will be making an announcement at the end of the epilogue regarding my plans for future stories. Thank you for reading and, well, stay tuned for Mello's parting words!**


	68. Epilogue

**A/N: So here it is at long last. The epilogue, courtesy of Mello. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: This is just a fan fic – now a finished one, at that!**

**Note: Announcements are at the bottom.**

* * *

**Epilogue**

* * *

When I saw her appear at the end of the aisle, my heart became filled with such sheer, raw emotion that I knew with absolute certainty that nothing could ever ruin this day or the days to come. That nothing could ever ruin _us_.

Hell, if we had defeated Kira together, then we could also take on the devil himself. Together, we could conquer anything.

"You look amazing," I whispered in Allie's ear once she reached me.

"Don't I always?" Allie asked airily as she produced a burgundy tie seemingly out of nowhere. She wrapped it around my neck and looped the silky strips together. Allie paused, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

"Nice try," I growled, prying the mock noose from her hands.

"Suits suit you, Mello. Very classy!" called a new voice from just outside the tent. Without even having to turn around, I knew that my best friend had finally arrived.

Allie grinned at Matt, who had just strolled into the canopy. "Classy? More like badass."

"You know it," I purred at the both of them.

"Anyway, Near sent these," Matt declared, dumping a mass of white roses onto the nearest banquet table. "He says congratulations, and that he's sorry he couldn't make it today."

I automatically grimaced at the blindingly pristine sight that was rapidly becoming my former rival's trademark. Near had sent the exact same kind to the Yagami family four months prior for the funeral of Light Yagami, fallen hero and falsely proclaimed Kira victim, as a token of condolence. He had refused to answer the Task Force's incessant questions regarding whether he really felt for them or not.

_Well, that's Near for you. Always dodging the third degree_.

I couldn't blame him. In fact, I actually commended him for his steadfast façade, which was a necessary burden as the most sought-after detective in the world.

_One_ of them, anyway.

"Too busy being L, huh? Understandable," I remarked out loud while adjusting my tie.

"Being N," Matt corrected me. He did a double-take when he spotted Allie.

"What are you looking at?"

"You can't dress like that," Matt protested. "It's a wedding!"

Allie smoothed down the lapels of the black motorcycle jacket – _my _jacket – draped loosely but proudly over her small frame. "I'm wearing a gown," she pointed out, gesturing toward the folds of blue satin peeking out from underneath the contrasting leather.

I couldn't help but smirk at this. Not a day went by when Allie didn't leave the house wearing that jacket. It was the sole reason she had survived long enough in that burning church with Takada. From that point on, it had become something akin to a good-luck charm for her, like a pair of lucky underwear or socks without the persistent stink (vinegar had done the trick quite well)_._

"Besides, I wouldn't be talking," Allie continued, tapping Matt's tinted goggles with a manicured finger before pushing them up onto his forehead. "Has anyone ever told you how much you look like a flyboy in these?"

"A flyboy, hmm?" Matt mused, his exposed jade-green eyes sparkling with delight. "I'll take that as a compliment. I suppose it's better than being called "Bugman" over at the SIS–"

"Quiet," I hissed, punching the redhead in the shoulder. "Someone's coming!"

We shouldn't have needed to worry. It was only Monica Robinson and her husband, who was visibly bursting at the seams with excitement over walking his first and eldest daughter down the aisle.

"Thank you, Mello. You've done a fantastic job," Allie's adoptive mother said appreciatively, gazing around the decorated site.

It had taken me merely twenty minutes to set up the tent and another fifteen to unload the tables and chairs from the delivery truck. There were champagne fountains and chocolate fountains – my idea – in each alternating corner, as well as a buffet table at both ends of the seating area.

I gave a modest shrug. "It's the least I can do," I told her, thinking of how Monica Robinson had generously offered me a place to stay when Near returned to New York and Matt was officially sworn into the MI6 following the Kira investigation.

Of course, I had declined, but that didn't stop me from accepting their daily dinner invitations whenever Matt's old apartment felt too large for one person.

John Robinson clasped his hands together and nodded toward the gazebo stationed across the grassy field. Guests were already gathered in the seats; some were even fanning themselves against the sweltering heat of the first day of summer.

The ceremony was due to start soon.

The older man exhaled noisily and dabbed at his teary eyes with a handkerchief. "Well then, are you ready?"

Half an hour later, I found myself asking Allie the exact same question.

The wedding had been fairly small and intimate, simple but breathtakingly beautiful. It was the first one that I had ever attended in my life. Amanda Robinson was now Amanda Parker, married by a minister before a dozen of her fellow Harvard graduates, family and in-laws, and several other neighbors and friends.

And then there were us.

Matt and I, the very two people who had turned their family upside down but ultimately helped change the world for the better, had been included in the invitee list. But there was no surprise there – after all, who could ever knowingly overlook two heroes like us?

Nate River sure hadn't.

After he had elected Roger Ruvie to be L's new Watari and granted me a full pardon, Near had proposed that I join him in heading a brand new provision of America's elite, composed of one Anthony Carter, my good friend Halle Bullook and the valiant but insufferable Stephen Loud. I had accepted Near's proposition and was now currently awaiting the president's approval of my blueprints to construct my own SPC – Special Provision for Crime – headquarters in Los Angeles.

_Eraldo Coil's _blueprints, to be precise.

Who ever said that L's three secret personas couldn't be taken literally?

"Yes, I am," Allie replied, squeezing my hand. "Well, what is it? I'm totally dying from suspense here."

"Are you sure you're ready?" I jokingly asked again. I was stalling for time, and she knew it. I received a stern glare in response.

"Mello!"

"Right. No time like the present. In that case, Allie Robinson, would you –" I slipped my other hand into my pocket and pulled out a red velvet box.

Allie's mouth dropped open.

"– like to move in with me?" I finished, snapping open the tiny case. Stuffed inside was a copy of the key to Matt's apartment. Well, _my _apartment now.

Allie's eyebrows practically disappeared into her hairline. "Wow. I don't know what to say."

"Say yes. It makes perfect sense. I mean, your campus will just be a ten-minute ride away from my place," I explained calmly, crossing my legs like a refined mobster. But on the inside, I was jittery as hell. "And, you know, time saved is time earned…" I trailed off with a suggestive leer.

"Plus you'll be able to help out with our cases once in a while," Matt piped up, sliding two plates of salad across the table toward us. "Deneuve" smacked his lips enthusiastically before digging into his own food.

"I'll have a lot on my hands," Allie sighed dramatically. "Studying. Rehearsing. More studying and rehearsing."

"Studying?" Matt scoffed. "Don't jerk us around. You'll ace everything with your hands tied."

It wasn't an exaggeration. Upon her much gossiped-about return to Los Angeles Coast High, Allie had passed all the exams she had missed with flying colors and had taken her second and final semester by storm, gotten into UCLA, and graduated with top honors. She had further shocked the entire student body and faculty by declining the valedictorian award. She hadn't felt comfortable with receiving it due to her, well, _unfair _advantage.

I quickly wolfed down the salad. While everyone watched the glowing bride and her father take to the dance floor, I only had eyes for my two closest companions.

Allie.

It hadn't even been a month since our accidental meeting when she had professed her feelings for me in Sayu Yagami's bedroom. The possibility that Allie was on the rebound and was simply caught up in the moment had initially crossed my mind, but I was glad that I had taken the gamble. Call it instinct or call it madness, but I had undeniably known there was no one else out there I could ever fall for.

There were just some things that couldn't be explained in words that weren't my own: _"The flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and beautiful of all."_

Allie Robinson was that flower. She had proven it over and over again.

And now, with her amnesia completely dissolved after the head trauma she had received in the truck collision back in January, she was both emotionally and mentally stronger than ever. It was unfortunate that I couldn't say the same for the Yagami family or Misa Amane, according to Mogi's occasional reports.

As for Matt...

Before he had accepted the job offer with Britain's Secret Intelligence Service, Matt had confessed to me that if Allie had never intervened and I had instead died by Takada's hand as the spokeswoman had intended, he probably would've lost his will to live, even with Commander Rester's successful donation.

He never in a million years could have been able to go on without his thicker-than-blood brother. This revelation disturbed me greatly. Had I known this, I never would've befriended Mail in the first place all those years ago at Wammy's.

I shook my head just as applause and whistles rippled through the air, praising the end of the traditional father-daughter dance.

No, that wasn't true. I couldn't even begin to imagine a life without Matt, either. The same went for the others. It was unbelievably liberating and satisfying to be able to trust these people – even a certain albino-esque associate – with my life.

"_We're gonna be unstoppable, just wait and see."_

It seemed like ages ago when Matt had given me that pep talk during our first night at the Perin Hotel, but his words still rang clearly in my mind.

"_Just wait and see."_

Glancing beside me, I caught Allie's faraway dreamy expression and smiled.

Matt had been right.

Together, we were unstoppable. Together, L would live on.

* * *

_Fin._

* * *

**A/N: I hope you liked that! Hehe, I'm such a sucker for optimistic endings.**

***instantaneously combusts from fluff overload***

Time for a few announcements! If you like my writing, be sure to keep an eye out on a future collection of one-shots that I will be releasing later on, _Museum Musings_, which will feature a variety of Death Note characters and the theme of Greek mythology. I will also be posting another story consisting exclusively of "prize" requests from any reader/reviewer of this particular fic. YES, THAT'S RIGHT! Because, seriously, I never would've reached this point if it weren't for each and every one of you guys.

This project will be named _Mosaic_. So feel free to drop me a message with your favorite pairing (it can be any: crack, slash, OC, etc.), a plot bunny, or a general prompt, and I'll dedicate a small drabble/ficlet to your name. In fact, I INSIST ^_^

**Thank you all for being such incredible readers. I adore you all from the bottom of my bottomless heart!**

**Well, this is me, signing out. I bid you adieu.**

– **Miss Bright**


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